Faith, Trust, Pixie Dust, and Man-eating Trees
by Fan Fictional Authoress
Summary: 'Well, it all started when a tree had me for lunch...Yes, a tree. That's crazy, you say? Well, it only got crazier from there...' A realistic self-insert and the dreaded shenanigans that follow.
1. I Trusted Him

**_All translations, explanations, advertisements, polls, and thought processes are at the end of the chapter._**

**____****Disclaimer: All shows/ books/ video games/ songs that are mentioned in this chapter are all © to their respective owners, I don't own them.**

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I'm a hopelessly optimistic person. Come hell or high water, I'm always looking for the best of the situation. If it becomes too hard to find something good, then I'll do my best to fix said situation, so it becomes better for everyone involved; it's the only thing I can do properly.

Maybe there's something wrong with my brain, or maybe I just didn't get the memo that was sent to inform people to grow up and be more realistic, but I can't help it. I just want everything to be gravy, I want everything to be 'okay,' I want everyone to be happy and content. Is that so bad a thing, happiness?

I'm such a child, so naïve and trusting. My mama always said I couldn't do anything right without her holding my hand, which was a total laugh, since it sometimes seemed as if I was more mother than sister to my half-siblings, but what can I say? Blame the mothering instinct. Anyway, it's not _my _fault that Biology was so mind-numbingly _boring_ that I couldn't be asked to stay awake. The only remotely interesting part about that class was dissection and that barely lasted for half a unit.

Maybe I should've been an Aries instead of a Scorpio, but I don't think it quite works that way. I'd still be a Rising Taurus, though, not being able to get angry easily and all that. My inability to get properly angry was what got me into this blasted situation in the first place. I can't be mad, it's so _hard_ for me to get upset, and even if I do, the rage is quick and short. I forgive too easily and my attention span is too short to _really _remember the wrong that has been done until next time it happens.

If only I could really get angry, I could give people a piece of my mind and maybe they would _finally _take me seriously, instead of downplaying my hurt or indignation as if I was just a child throwing a fit. I am melodramatic, yes, but I _can _get angry too! I can get upset too! You can't tell me how I feel and what I want! And right now, I'm upset and I want to slap him! I actually want to cause him physical harm so he can feel the hurt I'm feeling right now!

I trusted him, I _trusted _him.

And maybe that's the problem right there and not my almost non-existent ability to get angry. I trust too easily. I take what people say at face value and take their actions as genuine, without thinking to look for any hidden motives, unless they have done wrong to me before… repeatedly. It's nigh impossible for me to read in between the lines, and I couldn't be subtle to save my life (thank goodness a situation like that hasn't popped up yet, but, at this rate, it's only a matter of time). So, really, when the one person I trust the most says that I am nothing and that I mean nothing to him, I believe him.

I believe him, and oh, Dear Lord in Heaven, it _hurts. _I can't breathe, I can't talk, and it's _hell. _

The hurt fills me so completely, that I can't do anything but cry. Like I said before, I must've lost the memo that told me to grow up, because I'm crying like a little girl again, and _I_ _can't stop. _It's like I'm back in preschool again and having that stupid bucket of dirt being dumped on my head which caused that awful haircut, but that's not the point. It's like I'm back to being the "crybaby" because of a few words. That stupid saying, how did it go again? "Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words can never hurt me"? Well, for future notice, it's absolute rubbish and who ever came up with it should be fired straight away.

My eyes are like a leaky faucet, I can taste the salt, and my nose starts to run. I don't flee though, I stand my ground, because with him, running just makes everything worse.

"Oh," I say. "Oh, okay, that's-that's-okay, fine… Do-do you want me to leave?" I ask this, because it's the only thing I can say at this point, and I know my tears are making him uncomfortable, since he refuses to look at me. _Oh yeah, you jerk? How do you think _I _feel? _Huh, _you punk?!_

"You can't," he informs me flatly and suddenly, I feel so, so _stupid_, because he is right, I _can't _leave, I can't ever leave, not ever.

"Oh, right, sorry. I'm sorry, I just-sorry," I stutter, my mouth unable to form the words I want to say, my verbal tic interfering.

He sighs, as if tired with the situation, before he continues, giving me his instructions, "Stay here. Don't leave, no matter what." And he doesn't have to wait to hear my affirmative, because I wouldn't dare say no, but still, even though he's gone, I still answer him.

"I won't."

I haven't seen him for the longest while, and I can't help but wonder if he has left me here to rot, but where else could he go? Besides, it doesn't fit the person that I knew, trusted, admired, and loved like a proper father or an older brother of sorts…

And I meant _nothing_ to him.

You're probably confused, sorry. The end of a story is never a good place to start. Well, usually. Sometimes it's great, but this time, for sure, it's a bad way to start this story. I think I should try starting at the very beginning; it's a very good place to start, so I hear.

Well, it all started when a tree decided to have me for lunch…

Yes, a tree.

That's crazy, you say? Well, it only got crazier from there.

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_**To Be Continued...**_

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_**Poll:**_Which Doctor: 9, 10, or 11?

_**Thought Process:** _Let me say one thing: THIS IS A TEST CHAPTER.

I might not continue it.

I have no clue where it's going.

That being said, this is a realistic, self-insert, Doctor Who fan fiction. This character is basically me and what I think about myself. This character is a more extreme version of myself, the self I feel that I am. She is not a reliable narrator the majority of the time, since their are many things she isn't aware of and is bias towards. If I do continued this, there will be point in time where I change the point of view so that you as a reader can understand what is going on, but otherwise, we'll just stick with her point of view.

This chapter is inspired by Reality and Lost in Time.

_**Advertisements:**_

**TITLE: **Lost in Time

**AUTHOR: **emptyvoices

**ID: **10106809

**SUMMARY: **A story about a girl from our universe crossing over to the Dr. Who universe but with untold consequences. She is pulled into a dimension of insanity where fiction comes to life in frightening ways and wants to find her way back to the real world that she knew. She becomes tangled up in a mystery for the 10th doctor to discover on his journey. Will she find her way back home?

**OPINION: **It takes an interesting concept and makes said concept its own. A girl forced to become an unwilling companion because if she not careful she could cause the destruction of the universe. It's a story about free-will and what if a person had no choice in becoming a companion. A great story that is, sadly, underappreciated.

* * *

**TITLE: **Reality

**AUTHOR: **LovelyAmberLight

**ID: **9864475

**SUMMARY: **I wanted a more realistic story of a whovian getting stuck in the "Doctor Who" universe. This isn't the typical "yay, I met the Doctor" whovian story. Think about it. If you suddenly found out the Doctor was real, wouldn't you be just a little scared. That would mean all the monster were real too! This story starts off with the episode "Rose," and will continue on from there.

**OPINION: **Very well written, like a Doctor Who version of "Dreaming of Sunshine." It's a must read for those of you who want to see a slightly-darker Doctor who is still able to remain completely in character. Girl from our universe put into the Who-verse with a Doctor who thinks that she could be a hazard to herself and everyone else. A fantastic story in the making that reads like a script straight from BBC.

Happy Sunday,

FFA, the Fan Fictional Authoress

_Date Submitted: Sunday, March 3, 2014._


	2. And Then I Knew True Fear

**_All translations, explanations, advertisements, polls, and thought processes are at the end of the chapter._**

**____****Disclaimer: All shows/ books/ video games/ songs that are mentioned in this chapter are all © to their respective owners, I don't own them.**

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Okay, that might've been a bit dramatic, maybe a little _too _dramatic for what actually happened. Really, it was an ordinary day that ended being extraordinary, the bad kind. It was fall, my favorite season, and the beginning of a new school year. I had looked forward to it for the longest time, I was a senior, the big fish in the school along with the rest of my fellow seniors.

Alright, bad pun, sorry, it was just too easy…

Anyway, I had already been accepted into a little community college down in White Bear that I wanted to go to. I merely had to finish high school and get my diploma, which I so totally was! I just got eaten by a tree instead. I mean, it's not like I _wanted _to get eaten by some random tree, but, well, _c'est la vie_, such is life.

Actually, it's kind of sad that I had French lessons for half a semester in school, failing it by the way, and I've learned more phrases than I _ever _would been taught_ just _from hanging around a Francophile (I'll give you three guesses who and the first two don't count).

Getting off track again, sorry.

Continuing, I'm not going to claim that remember that day as if it was yesterday, because most of it was an unimportant blur, up until I-you guessed it-got eaten by that tree. I'm also not going to claim that it was frozen forever as the worst day of my life, because that would be a lie. I barely remember that day, and I've had far worse ones before.

What I do remember is walking home because I missed the bus, and I knew that no one would be able to pick me up from school. As I said before, it was fall, and there were colorful leaves scattered everywhere. I remember longing for a camera so that I could take pictures for that scrap book of mine, the one that happened to be blank, except for the clippings I had cut out from the National Geographic magazines at school (they were in the recycling bin, so it's not like I was stealing or ruining anything that the people over there particularly cared for, I'm not a criminal).

The leaves were crunching crisply underneath my feet, and I was humming some nonsensical tune as I stared off into space, day dreaming as usual. I don't really remember what it was that I was dreaming of, but let's just say that I was dreaming of flying or something, yeah, _flying. _When I came to the crosswalk to wait for my turn to cross the street, I came back to the real world long enough to wait for the light. I was going to cross, but something white caught the corner of my eye.

The source was coming from the squat and dumpy "Old Frog Tree." Everyone called it that, because the tree looked like an old, grumpy bull frog if you tilted your head to the side and squinted. It was tradition to go and smack what looked like a wart on the frog face for good luck when you passed by, which was pretty stupid, really, but it was a small town, so what could you do?

Anyway, the tree had what appeared to be a humongous crack cutting the trunk vertically in half, oozing what appeared to be a white, fuzzy fungus of some sort. It looked like someone had decided to stuff cotton balls into the huge crack, as if it was a pathetic attempt to seal up the crack. It wasn't until I was standing right beside the tree, worried that it might've gotten some sort of a disease, that I realized that it wasn't fuzz, but, rather, a pure light trying to peek out and escape from the deep groove in the tree.

I don't remember exactly what was going through my mind, but I believe that I thought that someone stuck one of those cords with the white lights into the tree for decoration. Curious, I stuck my hand into the groove (smart move, I know, but I couldn't help myself! Honestly, I couldn't!).

That was when the weirdest part happened, the crack actually expanded and ate me! It opened up more, the crack widening and lengthening to make itself bigger and taller than me. The light was blinding, but it was one of the most beautiful lights I'd ever seen then. I couldn't bring myself to look away or even blink, even though there was a distinct possibility that I could lose my eyesight, it was so bright. I felt myself be drawn into the light, and I made no resistance, entranced by its beauty. Tendrils of the light surrounded me, consumed me, the light becoming so bright that I was forced to close my eyes and shield them with my hands.

_And then I fell._

_And I fell, and I fell, and I fell._

_Down, down, down, I went with no end in sight._

The light, it burned me, everything seemed to burn in that shining, blinding realm. The wind that wasn't wind buffeted me from all sides, tearing through me, as if my flesh, muscles, blood, and bones weren't even there! The sizzling, stinging, raw power of that place is not something to take lightly, wherever and whatever it was. I just wanted it all to end, but at the same time...not.

There was this…this sound, something other than the not-wind. It was like a distant echo of a sound, like when you hear someone singing in the forest, but you are too far away to hear the lyrics or tune, you only know that it's there. Then there was this feeling, I can't really describe it, it was like-like I was everything at once.

I could feel my cells-every last one of them-my blood as it flowed against the veins, every one of the air particles that I breathed into my lungs and exhaled. I could feel everything. I could feel my planet, my solar system, my galaxy, the-the whole _universe, _even. For one brief moment, I could feel its vastness, its growth, its wonder, its glory, and its overwhelming amount of life. It was so big and I was so very small, so tiny, so insignificant, nothing.

_I was nothing in the face of it all. _

Nothing could stop the universe from just swallowing me whole, consuming me in this vulnerable state and spreading me like dust across the stars, across all of time, never able to leave, and never able to return to the way I once was. This terrible sense of forever and the pain, the love, the joy, the sorrow, the hate, the-_everything_.

Never ending, never stopping, too much, too little, enough, not enough, more, less, imperfect, perfect, all of it, and none at all, all at the same time, in that one brief moment...

And then the world exploded around me, casting me out. The not-wind whipping about me violently, rejecting me, trying to spit me back out the way I came, no longer wanting me.

_And then I was lost to the darkness._

I was stuck in a dark, dark place. The darkness was like one that you would only find in a cow's four stomachs: pitch black. For a moment, I thought that I had become blind or had finally just died. Then I realized that my eyes were wide open, there just wasn't any light here, it was cold, too cold for there to be any light, since that provides a source of heat. The sound of the universe and the not-wind was gone, replaced with less pleasant sounds.

I've heard that silence could be maddening, but I would've preferred it to the sourceless noises and bodiless voices. There were harsh whispers and screams accented with growls and cackling. There was a general feeling of discord, fear, hate, pain, and...sadness. No, not sadness, the feeling was too intense for that, rather, it was despair.

My heart refused to slow and let me calm down. It was going so fast, I was afraid that the only way for it to slow down would be if it stopped completely. Trembling, I listened to the noises around me, quiet as a church mouse, hoping that they, whoever or whatever they were, wouldn't notice me.

'_Please, Lord, don't let them notice me, please.'_

I had always been afraid of the dark. I always had to shut the door of my closet and leave my bedroom door open. I may not have checked under the bed anymore, but it was a hollow victory, since I still used a lava lamp for my nightlight and had those plastic, glow-in-the-dark stars littering my ceiling in the form of a starry sky.

I was not scared of the monsters that hid in the dark nor of the dark itself. I had always been scared that the light would never return if it was completely dark. That once the light disappeared, I would be dead and forced to wander in the darkness, unable to find a way to heaven or even purgatory without any light to see the path. I had always thought that if that happened, that if I wandered off that path, I would be cursed to never find my way out, and I would see nothing but that horrible, dreaded, black blankness of darkness anymore.

Seeing light assured me that I was still alive, because when you're dead, your eyes are the first to go, and you can't see light without them.

A voice croaked out, "Life-form de-tec-ted, ex-ter-min-ate! _Ex-ter-min-ate!_"

The owner of the voice started to fire beams of light wildly, terrifying me beyond belief. I tried to protest, to cry out, but I bit down on my own tongue by accident instead. A metallic taste filled my mouth, and a liquid started to dribble slowly down my chin. In my fear, I had bitten down too hard, causing my tongue to bleed. The beams of light were starting to get more and more accurate, heading closer to my position, trying to hit me.

Suddenly, behind me, something decidedly _evil _let out a howl, a roar of rage and hate and pain. I shrunk farther into myself, with no thoughts running through my head other than, '_It's going to be okay. I'm going to be okay. Everything _will_ be okay. Everything _has_ to be okay. These things don't exist. They can't possibly exist, they aren't real!'_

But they were.

There was a Dalek close by, and it painted a huge target on the both of us by firing at some huge, unimaginable evil known as Abaddon, the Great Devourer.

Almost frantically, the Dalek started firing its laser even more, screaming, "Ex-ter-min-ate! Ex-ter-min-ate!"

_Abruptly, it got cut off, and I knew then that it had been devoured._

I have no idea how long I was in that place, but it felt like an eternity, an eternity in what must've been hell. There was no other place that it could've been, I felt. '_What have I done?' _I wondered. _'What have I done to deserve this? What crime did I commit to be sent here? What about my fair trial before the Lord himself? I haven't committed any mortal sin that I had been aware of.'_

I didn't believe so, anyway, but still, a nasty thought occurred to me. _'But what if I had? Maybe that was what that white light was earlier, maybe those feelings I experienced was the presence of the Lord, himself. What if this was my fate, to exist forever surrounded by my worst fears and nightmares, never to leave this place?'_

The terror that I had been trying to contain, to suppress, bubbled its way to the surface of my thoughts. My breathing quickened to the point of me hyperventilating. I started choking and gasping for air over my sobs. I felt vulnerable and scared stiff in a place where everything was unclear and hidden in shadows. I don't think anything could describe the all-consuming _terror_ I felt during the whole time I was there.

To make matters worse, just when I thought that they _couldn't possibly _get any worse, my mind started to finally burn up from my experience in the light. I've never admitted this to anyone but myself, but I think that during my time in the light, I had been actually absorbing my _own_ universe, what I had been feeling, I was actually absorbing. This had been insulating me from the void, the darkness I was trapped in. Worse, as the void absorbed the universe I had been absorbing, I had continued to absorb the things around me.

I think that I had been absorbing anything and everything in reach, and that scares me. That means that I'm even _more _of a danger than the Doctor previously guessed, if I'm right. But being a danger was the furthest thing from my mind then, then I had thought that _I _was the one in danger.

_I could feel my mind being, literally, torn apart._

I couldn't stop myself anymore, I screamed in agony. My puny, human body was in no way compatible with all the knowledge being crammed in there, it started to burn after the peaceful, waiting period was over. It was now time for my mind to burn.

When I say that my mind was burning, I don't mean that the sensation was like my mind was simply lit on fire. Rather, it was more like a Red Carnivorous Maw came and started tearing my mind to shreds _while _it was set on fire. And somehow, all throughout that supposed metaphor, I managed to remain conscious. Lightning went down my spine, through my brain and into my body. It felt like that metaphoric fire was burning my flesh off and that acid was eating the inside of my head.

_Spasms started to rack my body._

I felt everything and felt nothing. I was in pain and that one sensation overloaded everything else. I was screaming, and _I couldn't stop. _My lungs felt like they were ripping each other to pieces as I screamed and screamed and screamed. I screamed until my entire throat was dry and I was completely out of oxygen. I screamed out of pain until I could no longer scream.

I had been wailing and crying for mercy, terrorized and irrational. My pain-filled and tortured screams were probably the only thing that kept me alive in that darkness. All the other monsters didn't want to meet the monster that could cause a person to scream like that, for fear that it would happen to them.

I felt like I was dying, and you know what the worst part was?

_I didn't care._

I didn't care about the fact I was dying-well, I _did _care, but I didn't care about being dead as much as something else. Something else that I care about so much more than the fact that I would be _dead. _It wasn't just the dying part that got me, it was the fact that I would be dying _alone._

_I was suffering alone._

I was so scared and so sad and so ignorant of what would happen next, because I didn't know what would happen next.

_I remained in the dark, and in that darkness, I knew true fear._

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I have no idea when or how I left, in fact, I wasn't even aware of the change in scenery until long after. I was unable to recognise or process the world around me, the pain was so strong. My screams had started to die down until they were only uncontrollable sobs of pain. The light from the space around me hurt after so long in the darkness, but I was grateful, I knew that I was alive then.

But the _pain_, oh, how it burned my skin!

At that point in time, I wasn't aware of this, but I later found out that I had appeared in a public park. Many people had heard my cries and spotted me writhing in agony on the ground; they immediately called for help. One person had tried to help me, but the moment his hand touched my skin, it was like he was stoking the fire burning through me, making it worse. The officers arrived minutes after with some paramedics, who moved me, screaming, into an ambulance where I was immediately taken to a hospital.

It was then that my screams were the loudest. I had been screaming for so long, my voice was raw, but their touch made the pain worse, if that was even possible, because they were lifting and restraining me. I was getting to the point when I didn't even have the strength to make a sound, my screams slowly died away in volume, but my mouth was still wide open as if sound was still coming out.

Only my mental screams of anguish were left, and I think, at that point, even they were growing more and more faint. The pain was so great, I was forgetting who I was, what was happening, I was forgetting everything, signs that my situation was getting to be extremely dire.

_Pain was my world engulfed._

I had to be sedated, knocked out, before I cause myself and others more harm with my spasms. I remember that last part, being sedated, because that was when the pain started to die away. Whatever they used eventually cut off all feeling, the pain was gone and I felt nothing.

This nothing was different from before, then I had only felt pain and had felt so much of it, it was like I knew nothing else and it canceled into nothingness. More simply, before it was just pain and nothing else, but now, it was nothing else at all.

I wasn't connected to my surroundings anymore, I kind of passed out. The thing is, though, being in that state lasted for days. It was like I wasn't even connected to my physical body at all. I eventually became aware to my surrounding, yes, but I couldn't react, like my mind was separate from my body. I couldn't move or do anything on my own, except for the automatic things like breathing and blinking...or I mumbled.

I don't know what it was that I said, but the reports said that I was mostly listing numbers, equations. I can't remember, my mind had stored the information away to my subconscious, which is why the-

Oh, wait, nevermind, spoilers, sorry…

Moving along, I was catatonic, my mind was fuzzy, cloudy. I couldn't think right, and I couldn't really pay attention to the world around me. Everything seemed so muffled and slow. The only thing I could compare it to was what a cold-blooded creature probably felt when it got stuffed into the refrigerator.

Every time I opened my eyes, everything seemed so...dull, bland, pale, and-and empty. Nothing seemed to click with me, as if I was looking through a lens. People, nurses most of the time, spoke to me whenever my eyes were open, trying to get me to respond to then, I suppose. I tried, believe me, I tried, but it was like the whole of my consciousness was centered along my eyes, and even then, only to open and close them.

It was always such a chore to look around the room, as if my eyes had weight in them. I usually only looked forward in whatever direction my head happened to be pointing at, meaning that I got a good, long look up at the ceiling.

Eventually on what might've been the third day, I found that I could turn my head to the side. So now I had three places to look at, the ceiling, the window, and the door that lead outside of my room. Once in a while I noticed that there would be a doctor or two inside the room, studying me and studying what looked like an x-ray of a skull, a brain, one that I guessed was mine, one that they had probably took while I was unaware.

I don't know why they found it terribly interesting, not even when they tried to explain it to me later either as they took me in for more tests and head scans. The only thing I did know was that for each day I gained more control of my body, the more the x-rays changed. By the time I was finally able to sit up by myself, my x-rays were declared to be normal.

The only thing that didn't change was that my mind remained somewhat clouded from the pain-killers or drugs that they continued to give me through an IV (by that time, I insisted that it be taken out and any medicine be in pill or liquid form).

The day after that, they sent in a psychiatrist. "Hello, my name is Dr. O'Connell, do you mind answering some questions…?"

"No," I said, expecting something like this to happen soon anyway.

"Right," he wrote something down on his clipboard before asking, "What is your name?"

"Penelope Elaine Carter, are my parents here?"

"I'm afraid not, Penny, can I call you that?" He asked off-hand.

"...Sure," I frowned slightly, but didn't protest.

"Do you remember what day it is?"

"Yeah, it's...September 10, 2013, right?" I asked, doing the mental math in my head.

"Say that again?"

"September 10, 2013. I might be off by a day or two, though, how wrong am I?"

"It's the year 2003, you are off by ten years."

I took one look at his face and laughed, "You can't be serious?"

"As serious as a heart attack," he deadpanned, the look of utmost seriousness never leaving his face. My laughter died away into nervous tittering.

"I'm sorry, but is this some kind of test? It's 2013, I would know, since I'm supposed to graduate from high school this year, I'm a senior."

"Right," Dr. O'Connell nodded, "And you graduate on June 6 of next year, correct?"

"Yeah, that's right," I said, relief flooding my voice. "I'm going to be a graduate of 2014."

"And how old are you now?"

"I'm seventeen," I stated, figuring that we had moved on.

"When was your birthday?"

"November 6, 1995," I answered automatically, thoughtlessly.

"But that would make you seven years old, don't you mean 1985?"

"No, 1995!" I exclaimed, exasperated. "I was born on November 6, it's 2014, I'm seventeen years old, and my name is Penelope Elaine Carter."

"Right, sorry, my apologies," Dr. O'Connell said in a placating manner as he wrote down the information on his clipboard. "Just making sure that you were certain in your answer."

"Why wouldn't I be? It's common sense," I muttered, feeling miffed slightly at his attitude. Louder, I asked, "So my parents didn't visit at all? What about my grandparents, my sister, anyone?"

"No, no one has come to visit you, nor have you been declared missing."

"What?" I asked shocked.

"No one has been looking for you, I'm sorry," the man had a sympathetic voice as he continued to jot down notes.

"May I have a phone call?"

"You can borrow mine," he offered handing over a flip-phone, which pleasantly surprised me.

"Oh, I thought most people didn't use these anymore besides me and some of my friends," I said delightedly. "They are so much easier and straightforward than the smart-phones." Not noticing the assessing look on the psychiatrist's face, I quickly typed in the phone number to my parents cell phone.

_"We're sorry, this phone number is not in service, please-"_

I ended the call and tried my grandparents' home phone.

_"We're sorry, this phone number is not-"_

Scared now, I tried Laura's phone number, only to get the same response.

_"We're sorry-"_

The phone fell out of my hand and bounced on the bed. I brought a shaking hand to my mouth, sickened. "Where are we?"

"Fergus Falls, Minnesota," O'Connell studied my reaction closely.

"Oh, that's not too far away from my home at all," I remarked faintly, surprised. "I live in Underwood, about a quarter of an hour away."

"I see, your address?" I listed it out for him and he nodded, standing up. "Thank you for your time, Penny. I'll just leave you to your lunch. We'll get this mystery taken care of," he assured me. "I'll be back later, hopefully with some answers."

"You and me both," I mumbled quietly, thinking about what had caused all my problems in the first place. "I can't wait for this nightmare to end… Time-travel doesn't exist."

* * *

"No one has lived there for quite some time, Penny."

"You must be mistaken, Dr. O'Connell, I've been living there my whole life," I said earnestly.

"The thing is, we've also checked the hospital records here. There was a girl named Penelope Elaine Carter born here at 7:31 a.m. on November 6, 1995, along with her twin sister, Laura Jane Carter. Unfortunately, she went missing earlier this year by means of kidnapping. The family has moved to a new permanent residence in Georgia to protect themselves. She was seven."

"No, you're lying, I'm alive, I'm right here!" I protested.

"She went missing at approximately at 1:30 p.m. and was last seen at Bass Lake with her sister who barely got away herself."

"I've never went around strangers! It must be a coincidence! It has to be! I didn't go through hell, just to end up kidnapped!" I sobbed.

"What do you mean by that Penny?"

"...N-never mind that, you wouldn't believe me anyway," I muttered bitterly.

"Try me, you'll find that I am a very open minded person," the psychiatrist adjusted himself so that he was sitting more comfortably in the chair and waited patiently, his pen poised over his clipboard.

"You'll think I'm mad, _barking_ mad," I insisted. "_I_ even think I'm mad, and I was there!"

"'Mad,' Penny?" He repeated.

"Barmy, crazy, insane, not in my right mind," I listed off slightly hysterically. "Take your pick!"

"I prefer the term 'unstable,' but continue. I'll attempt to withhold my judgment," he demonstrated his point by tossing the clipboard on the bedside table, putting his hands in his lap. "Now, what did you mean by that, Penny?"

"I think I did die, only for a little while, mind you, but it just…" I started shaking. "It was so dark, Doctor. So, so very dark. The voices, the screams, everywhere, I could hear them. The chill seemed to sink to your bones, I was so scared. I wasn't alone, they were everywhere, hiding, lurking, waiting," I choked, my hands slowly moving up to cover my ears, eyes clenched shut.

"Who, Penny?" O'Connell asked gently.

"The monsters, the Great Evil, the forgotten, the banished, the punished," I burst out, starting to cry. "They were going to kill me, I was dead, but they were going to kill me!"

"Monsters," Dr. O'Connell repeated slowly.

"The Daleks, the Cybermen, Chronomites, the Nightmare Child, the Army of Meanwhiles and Neverweres led by the Could've Been King, the Horde of Travesties, and _It_."

"It?"

"Abbandon, the Great Devourer. It was there, I was going to die, it was going to kill me."

"But you're safe _now_, Penny. There are no monsters here."

I laughed with a bit of hysteria, "Oh no, that's where you're wrong. I was in 2013, yeah, but you claim it's 2003. Back in 2003, there was a monster, a Dalek, in the possession of Mr. Henry Van Statten. It's hidden and it won't escape for another two years, but it's there. It's _there_." I had started to confuse the nightmare, the void, with reality. I had been right, but I had thought, then, that I had finally snapped.

"So, the world ends in 2005?" I shake my head like he's ridiculous.

"No, silly, that doesn't happen until the year 5.5/apple/26, it's in five billion years when the sun expands. No, it...dies. It only wanted to see the sunlight, but it dies."

"That's a very sad story, I'm sorry, Penny." A woman then walked in, having been alerted by the panic button the psychiatrist had pressed. Dr. O'Connell directed his attention to her. "Ah, Nurse Winn, Penny needs some rest, but she's a bit worked up right now."

"Yes, Dr. O'Connell," she nodded, shooting me a pitying look before quickly leaving. I noticed but didn't care, too busy feeling sorry for both myself and the doomed Dalek. I didn't even care when the Nurse approached me with a needle full of sedative and stuck me with it.

* * *

**_To Be Continued..._**

* * *

_**Edit: **_I combined the old chapters 2 and 3. It made more cohesive sense.

_**Edit:** _Parallel-Penny was kidnapped, not drowned.

_**Check the poll on my profile or answer in a review:** _Which Doctor: 9, 10, or 11?

_**Translations:**_

*C'est la vie ~ Such is life/that's life

_**Explanations:** _

* A Francophile is someone who loves France and all things French.

* Personally, I think that this is obvious enough, but just in case, she is in the void. Dreadful thing exist in there. Daleks and Abaddon least of all.

* She is deeply religious, so there will some references to her faith. She is a Roman Catholic. If you have any questions, feel free to ask.

* No, she will not become all powerful. The same thing that happened to Donna is happening to her. Too much knowledge = Death. The situation will resolve itself though as you will see in the next chapter.

* A Red Carnivorous Maw is a real creature in the Who-verse. The Tenth Doctor made a reference to it in 'The End of Time.' It's assumed to be a red-skinned carnivorous creature.

* With Penny being sedated, her mind kicking with a precautionary measure. It basically shut her down while it got rid of the hurtful information...among other things.

* The x-rays Penny is talking about are the x-rays you get from a CAT-scan. Her brain was lit up beyond what was considered normal for a human. The doctors basically scanned proof of her brain burning.

* So, yeah, the void is basically a dumping ground full of monsters and the unfortunate people to get sucked in from all places and all points in time. Scary stuff.

_**Advertisements:**_

**TITLE: **The Gallifreyan

**AUTHOR: **Writless

**ID:** 7778250

**SUMMARY:** When they first meet, under attack by a demon in a field, she's certain she's gone mad. Even more difficult to accept is he claims to have met her before. With each subsequent encounter, all equally unconventional, she starts to believe him. As she finds herself hurtling forward through time, Calypso learns more about who she was, and a man who calls himself the Doctor. Doctor/OC

**OPINION:** I fell in love with this original piece of work within the first chapter. Completely new and a very satisfying read. It will take some time to get through as there are a lot of components. However, it is well worth the time spent.

* * *

**TITLE: **Not in Kansas anymore

**AUTHOR: **multiverse-tourist

**ID:** 9704191

**SUMMARY:** Imagine ending up in a fandom-world; sounds like a dream come true, doesn't it? But have you ever considered just what actually living it might entail? What if being a stranger to everyone with no home and family to go to, turns out to be not so wonderful after all? Lydia Rayne is about to find that out. [Trying for a more realistic approach at the "fan ends up in fandom"-concept.]

**OPINION:** I find myself enjoying this story very quickly. Refreshing writing style and original adventures! Hasn't been updated yet, but I do look forward to the next one. The Doctor is a bit frosty, but that is only to be expected at that point in time.

* * *

_**Thought Process:**_

So, this is chapter two of this story. You can thank emptyvoices for being brilliant and helping me hash out ideas for the way things are moving along and being a wonderful Beta and helping me with some of the more realistic aspects.. I have no clue when I'll put the third chapter up. But whenever...

Anyway, I think the rest of you readers can guess what's going to happen next, and if not, well, you should've but don't feel bad if you didn't.

The Doctor isn't going to appear for a while and WHY AREN'T YOU PEOPLE VOTING?!

Unless you don't really care, you should vote. I like giving my readers a choice instead of just deciding things for you all. Anyway, 10 is in the lead with 11 close behind. 9 only has one lonely vote. If you don't like the results so far, VOTE to change them. Apathy gets you no where. You don't even have to write a review, just go to my profile.

It only takes five clicks of the mouse.

The poll deadline is whenever the chapter before the Doctor appears gets done and posted (i.e. I don't really know, but I'll tell you when it is closed).

Anyway, yeah, it's been a long week. What, with pi day and me reciting 124 digits of pi, only to find out two hours later my little brother is in the hospital with a ruptured appendix. Getting terribly sleep deprived and starting o hallucinate as a result. A friend decides to calling forty-nine times within two hours, not respecting the fact that I don't feel like answering the phone because I'm too damn tired. *Huffs*

The bight side is, to more days until break, my brother gets out tomorrow or the day after that, and I won a pie baked by my teacher because I won by ONE DIGIT. Cheers!

Also, apologies for not updating my other Doctor Who fan fictions, I should really get on that, really. I've got no excuse, I just haven't been writing. I haven't abandoned them, they are just on hold until I get around to them, yeah.

I have no clue what to type.

Why do I even bother with these author notes?

Ah, well...

Happy Friday,

FFA, the Fan Fictional Authoress

P.S. - I have no clue when I'll update this next or my other stories. Stay tuned!

_Old Chapter 2's Date Submitted:_ Wednesday, March 3, 2014.

_Old Chapter 3's Date Submitted: _Monday, March 17, 2014.

_Date Updated: _Friday, March 28, 2014.


	3. When My World Fell Apart

**_All translations, explanations, advertisements, polls, and thought processes are at the end of the chapter._**

**____****Disclaimer: All shows/ books/ video games/ songs that are mentioned in this chapter are all © to their respective owners, I don't own them.**

* * *

I had been diagnosed with undifferentiated schizophrenia.

Not long after my breakdown, I was moved to the Fergus Falls Regional Treatment Center. I knew then, that I was no longer home anymore. The building that I stayed in was closed in 2005 and was eventually listed for sale in 2012. Back at home, I remember the people talking about demolishing it. Here, that building had no sign of being closed anytime soon, but that might've just because it would be two years before that time happened, or so I guessed (and I was right, I was later moved to Fergus Falls Community Behavioral Health Hospital).

I was prescribed Lurasidone, a neuroleptic meant to treat my symptoms. I felt restless most of the time, feeling like I needed to move around. I was jittery, my hands constantly trembling and my legs shaking with excess energy that I wanted to get rid of by moving. Sadly though, while I wanted to move, it was hard with my muscles being stiff, almost rigid. The best I could manage was a shuffling sort of walk so that I could keep my balance.

I almost never slept; instead, I sort of drifted in and out of awareness, daydreaming and going off into my mind palace, to quote the modern Sherlock Holmes. It was hard for me to sleep. "I just don't feel tired," I would tell the nurses when it was three in the morning and, still, I would be awake and doing something else besides sleeping. Truly, though, it was because I was afraid to sleep.

I still had nightmares of that day as well as other dreams that were less scary and more heart breaking. I just stayed awake, which was easier than it sounded, since I was already only being able sleep five to six hours a day anyway back at home. I always had trouble sleeping, just not to this extent, per se...

Anyway, my mind was always clouded, I couldn't think straight. My thoughts were hard to put into some semblance of order, so it would hard for me to think of a response to questions or direct statements that were posed to me. Time and days passed me by so easily, so readily, that I wouldn't realize that a week had passed if I didn't check the calendar in the lounge.

The only things that stood out clearly from the fog were some of my individual therapy sessions. They all varied and some were more important than others, but they helped to form the person I've become today, both good and bad.

* * *

_**November 1, 2003.**_

* * *

"What do you remember moments before you were unconscious?"

"My mind began to burn. I was dying, I _would've _died, if I wasn't sedated when I was. There was too much knowledge inside my head, all those things I knew...It came from, it came from…" I started sobbing in horror. "I killed them, oh, Lord in Heaven, forgive me. I _killed _them. Those Daleks and Cybermen and Weeping Angels, they were all here...and I _killed _them. There was something I absorbed too, I...I...I _killed _it. I didn't mean to in the darkness, I just wanted to go home. No, not even that, I just wanted it to end. I wanted the horror to stop. Make it stop. _Please_, make it _stop!_"

I started to scream in earnest, doctors broke in through the door and everything went dark.

* * *

_**February 25, 2004.**_

* * *

"I've been getting nightmares," I say after around nine minutes and twenty-three seconds according to the clock on the wall.

"Have you?" Dr. Pierce asked. "Tell me about them."

"I'm back at home...I can see myself having the life I always wanted." I pause for a few seconds, to collect the exact words I want to say. "I've got a job as a Dental Hygienist. I've got a house and dogs, three of them. Two pugs, Rupert and Pakkun, and a collie, Lassie. I still see my sister, Laura, when I can. I still write stories, travel, and food, cooking and eating it. I garden my garden of death filled with 'botanical atrocities' with some common, harmless flowers too. And...And…" I stop, swallowing thickly.

"What is it?"

"I run. I can run in the rain again, go racing in it again, just like always. Just like I used to before Old Frog Tree."

Dr. Pierce wrinkled her nose slightly. "In the rain?" She repeated incredulously. "Why on Earth would you do that?"

My face lit up at the question, "It makes me try harder, forces me to reach deep within myself to get that power I usually leave untouched. It's like I'm fighting against myself and against nature, against the _world_, when I run. I fight with all my heart to keep going, one foot in front of another. It always feels so good, like leaving behind all the weights in my heart and mind in the dust. I makes me happy, really, truly _happy_."

I looked at her, thinking that she would understand, like she always had before when I talked about my life and experiences, but all I saw was a blank face, one that didn't understand my joy. She disapproved, I could feel it. My throat tightens, and I feel myself getting smaller and smaller under her gaze. She changes the subject.

"And that is a nightmare?"

"...Yeah," I answer after another three minutes and forty-nine seconds have passed, _tick tock. _"Yeah, 'cause, you see, it never lasts. The dream fades away a little more, and it always ends the same with those white cracks covering the night sky… Before everything shatters to pieces, blanketed by the whiteness." I stop, throat constricting once more.

I manage to pull myself together so I can continue, "And I just keep running and running and running...I think I'm running from something."

"What do you think it is?"

"I-I don't know… It's like I _know_ I should know what it is, but I don't remember...Then I wake up, and I know that it was just a dream, and it tears me apart."

"You're sad that the nightmare was only a nightmare?" Dr. Pierce asks flabbergasted.

"Yeah, 'cause I lose everything all over again."

"But it's only a delusion, a dream, none of it was real."

"No, it was real, the same as you or me," I insisted stubbornly. "I could feel it so vibrantly, those emotions were real, not fake."

Dr. Pierce shook her head, "You been telling me for some time now that you starting to forget things. If it was real, the memories wouldn't be fading, now would they?"

_And it was then, that I first started to doubt…_

* * *

_**June 15, 2004.**_

* * *

"I've never told anyone about this before, but before...before the darkness, there was...actually a bright light."

"Why haven't you told anyone before?" Dr. Pierce asked patiently.

"...'Cause I was worried that you'd think I'm even more crazy. You think I am already, I just didn't want to add anymore to it."

"There are no judgments here, just two people having an honest conversation with each other."

'_Liar,'_ I thought bitterly.

"You truly believe this right now, so you are fine. You aren't trying to make things up. You honestly believe them, it's just my job to convince you otherwise. I can't help you unless you tell me."

"...Okay," I took in a huge breath before releasing it slowly, trying to calm my racing heart. "Remember the bright light that was trying to go through the groove of the tree?"

"Yes."

"That was the light I first experienced...Earlier, I said that I was first engulfed by the light before it turned into darkness...I was telling the truth, just not all of it."

"Well, I'm listening now," Dr. Pierce smiled, clicking her pen in preparation. I tried to ignore the fact that everything I said was going to be written down and dissected.

"It-it was everywhere. I was completely surrounded by the white blankness, and I fell with no end in sight. There was something like wind that blew in the whiteness, but it wasn't wind though-"

"-Wind that wasn't wind?" Dr. Pierce asked incredulously, interrupting me.

"Yes, it wasn't wind, I think it might've been the resistance against the force that was pulling me."

"Hmm, I see, continue," I could tell that she didn't truly _see. _I almost snarked, '_"I see," says the blind man,'_ at her but managed to restrain myself.

"I started to the echoes then, they were- they were so _beautiful _and so..._terrifying_," my eyes started to glaze over as I remembered.

"Echoes?"

"Yeah, echoes, like when you hear something from far, far away. Like when you hear someone singing from far off, you can't quite hear the words or the tune, but it's _there. _The echoes...they were like a wordless vocalization, one continuous song, the Song of Time, the Song of Everything…" My attention drifted inward as I trailed off thoughtfully.

"And what was it like? How did you feel?"

"I felt everything. I felt...everything. There is no one way to describe it, having everything in your head...I paid for it later, to be certain, it burned… It burned…" My voice trailed off again, and I stared off into space, unable to continue now. My mind had been clouded once again.

"I think that is enough for today, Penny."

* * *

_**August 31, 2004.**_

* * *

"I don't even know which is fantasy and which is reality anymore. It's hard to keep it all straight in my head...the details are bleeding together."

"Hmm," Dr. Pierce uttered thoughtfully. "Maybe it's time for you to start getting everything down in a diary, a journal, to keep it all straight in your head. Here, take this one."

"...You were going to recommend it today anyway, regardless of what I said, weren't you?"

"I plead the fifth."

"Ha-ha," I laughed without too much humor, the fog was making it hard to keep my smile in place, and it fell without much fanfare. "I'll try it. What am I supposed to write?"

"Whatever comes to mind…"

* * *

_**January 19, 2005.**_

* * *

"I've couldn't help but notice that you've been writing about...science-fiction," Dr. Pierce said, leaving a meaningful pause at the end for me to explain. I pretend to not notice, picking at a loose thread on the couch. She finally sighed and asked, "Why?"

"...I'm just writing whatever comes to mind…"

She looked frustrated, and even a little bit upset, before calming herself down. "Like what?"

"Star Trek, Star Wars, Battlestar Galactica, The Twilight Zone, Doctor Who-"

"-Doctor _what_?" She interrupted, frowning.

"Doctor Who, a British television series. It's been running for close to fifty years now, since 1963," I said with a spacy grin.

"Don't you mean _forty _years, Penny?" Dr. Pierce gently corrected.

"No," I frowned, "fifty. I heard about there being a special for it on coming for… Christmas, I think… I can't remember. It's on BBC America."

"I see. I haven't heard of this show before, if it's been going on for forty years, why haven't seen it or heard about it?" Dr. Pierce asked, curious of what my explanation would be.

"It got canceled for twenty-some-odd-years. It didn't revive until 2005 with the ninth Doctor. It's speculated that the twenty-year break between Seven and Nine was because of the Time War, which makes sense, considering there was a movie featuring Eight in 1996."

"I don't… I don't understand," Dr. Pierce stated, puzzled. "Ninth Doctor? Seven and Eight? Time War?"

"Oh, the Doctor is a Time Lord who travel around in his space ship called the TARDIS. It looks like a 'Police Public Calls Box' and is bigger on the inside… Or smaller on the outside depending on your perspective. He can go anywhere in time and space, and he saves the Universe a lot.

"If he dies, he regenerates, his body completely changes, and he becomes a different man. He has the same mind but a different body. So far, he has regenerated ten times. I've heard that Time Lords regenerate only twelve times, but at one point, he said that he could regenerate 507 times. I think he was joking, though…"

"I...see," Dr. Pierce blinked, overwhelmed by all the information, but smiled when she saw my face light up and regain some color and expression. This, in her mind, was a normal thing to be excited and happy about. "I'll talk with some of the staff, learn a bit more about 'Doctor Who,' since it seems to be something important to you, Penny."

I frowned, "No, it's not really important. I just really liked watching it. It was fun… Why did I ever stop?" I wonder out loud and tried to think about it. My clouded state of mind made it difficult, though, and I eventually gave up on that useless exercise.

"Then what's important to you, Penny?" Dr. Pierce asked.

"Church," I chirped, "And running in the rain. I loved that. I felt like I could run forever and ever. I can't run anymore, though, just like I can't go to mass. I'm sick, you see." My face fell briefly, before smoothing back into its previous dazed expression. "I might lose control or have a fit again, but I don't think I would. I'm a good girl, aren't I?"

"Yes, Penny, you are. I know you would try to do that on purpose but accidents happen. We have a chapel in the hospital, so you can go there to pray. You can also run around the grounds or inside our gym. You would have to be supervised though, just to make sure you don't get lost or confused, Penny," Dr. Pierce said kindly, "but you can't leave the grounds, I'm sorry."

"No, I understand. I'm sick, so I've got to stay in the hospital and get better." I nodded, giving a brief, dreamy smile.

"Yes, Penny, you are, but you are improving, have been improving, over the past year. We'll see how you get to be later on."

* * *

_**February 1, 2005.**_

* * *

"Penny, there's no such thing as 'Doctor Who.'"

"What?" I asked, snapping briefly out of my drugged trance to give Dr. Pierce a piercing (no pun intended) look. "What do you mean by that?"

"It doesn't exist. I've asked around and looked online for the past week, and…there's nothing."

"How can that be? I know it exists, I remember!"

"That's because it's your own idea, you created it, no one else. It doesn't exist, except in your own mind."

"So I imagined it, just like everything else?" I asked, devastated as I slumped back into my seat.

"Yes, just like everything else."

* * *

_**May 27, 2005.**_

* * *

"I've noticed you stopped writing in your journal, do you care to tell me what's wrong?"

I stared at her flatly for a long time. When she opened her mouth to ask the question again, I said, "Everything I know, everything that I remember from before, is false. It's not true, fake. I'm trying to forget everything, so what's the point of writing down things that aren't true?" I asked dully.

"It helps with the healing process and organizes your thoughts," Dr. Pierce promptly answered.

"But they are all lies, they aren't true!" I burst out angrily, fuming in my seat.

"It's fiction to everyone else, but you believe it's true. That's why you need to write it down. If you write it all out like it's fiction, it will become fiction to you. It's helping you to write down this 'Doctor Who' on paper. You enjoy doing it. You can't deny that, Penny."

"Yeah, I like writing," I admitted, still troubled. "But it's re-I mean, I _think _it's real. I'm so sure it is. What if I get sued?"

"Are you trying to sell it for money?" Dr. Pierce asked.

"...No," I answered. "But-"

"It doesn't exist. It has never existed. You aren't even going to publish it. It's just for your own amusement and healing. We can keep this between you, me, and anyone else you want to share it with," Dr. Pierce interrupted.

"...Okay."

* * *

_**July 28, 2005.**_

* * *

"Well, Penny, it appears that your story-telling is getting quite popular in the hospital."

"..." I didn't respond.

Dr. Pierce tried again, "The other patients I've talked to love your stories, they make the days better for others. They have something to look forward to now. Why have you stopped?"

"...Do you know what year it is in your time?"

Dr. Pierce sighed, "It's 2005 in _everyone's _time, Penny."

"It's supposed to be 2015," I snapped before sighing, weary. Grimly, I continued, "The next story has the Dalek I told Dr. O'Connell about in it."

"Dalek?" Dr. Pierce frowned, obvious not remembering any session that I had been before where I mentioned, described, and _drew _the creature. "What's that?"

I ignored her question, miffed, "It's 2005 in your time that it takes place. What if...What if…" I couldn't bring myself to continue. Instead, I asked, "Is there such a thing as 'Torchwood' or 'UNIT?'"

"No, Penny. Those organizations don't exist," Dr. Pierce was quick to deny, too quick to be telling the truth, but I as doped up as I was, I believed her. She was my psychiatrist. She was supposed to tell me what was real and what wasn't.

So, I believed her.

* * *

_**November 23, 2005.**_

* * *

"What do you mean closing? Is it that time already?" I asked, surprised. "I knew it was close to sometime in 2005, no longer treating patients, before completely closing in 2008 and being put up for sale, but-"

"Penny," Dr. Pierce warned.

"Sorry, you were saying, Doctor?" I asked unrepentantly.

"Penny, you remember what we told you, right?" Dr. Pierce persisted, looking at me sternly.

"Sorry, Doctor," I said a little guiltily. "I'll try not to do it again, sorry. I'll be good, really, sorry…"

She sighed, "It's fine, no need to get yourself worked up."

"I'm still a good girl, right?"

"Yes, Penny, you are," Dr. Pierce responded, almost impatiently. Briskly, she continued, "Anyway, the patients are being moved to Fergus Falls Community Behavior Health Hospital. You'll be staying there from now on."

"Okay, when will we start up our sessions, then?"

"We won't," Dr. Pierce said with relish.

"What?" I asked, sure that I had misheard.

"We won't, you'll be transferred to another psychiatrist. I've been promoted because of my breakthroughs with you. I'm going to another mental institution in Anoka. I'm going to be the Head of Directories." She smiled, all her teeth showing, obviously happy. I couldn't help but feel hurt, though. I had forgotten that I was only one of many patients here, if just a bit stranger.

I was nothing but a case study in the end, my life was nothing but fiction to them.

* * *

_**January 2, 2006.**_

* * *

Dr. Dogers was a nervous man. He didn't hide all too well and was extremely jittery, making me nervous in turn. His smiles were quick and brief, as if they had never been there. It turned out at one point he "had" anxiety disorder. I say "had" with a pinch of salt, because to me, it seemed like he still had it.

"Penny Carter, it's nice to meet you. I am your new psychiatrist," he began, his voice surprisingly deep and steady, going start to the point.

"...Hi," I said, bringing my knees to rest up with me on the couch, hugging them to my chest. It seemed like a good place to rest my head.

I fell asleep.

* * *

_**April 16, 2006.**_

* * *

"Penny, you should publish your stories!" Mrs. Char exclaimed. "I've listened in, and they are like nothing I've ever heard before! I usually don't watch or read sci-fi stuff, since it goes over my head most of the time, but those stories are great!"

I kept on running, holding onto the bar to ensure I didn't lose my balance on the treadmill. I used my exercise as an excuse to not comment.

"Yeah," Jo-lee, my supervisor for the day agreed. "It's pretty awesome stuff. If it was a T.V. show, I'd watch it."

I tried to ignore them, setting the speed up at a faster pace to drown out their voices.

_Breathe in. Breathe out._

"I can help you with the process too," Mrs. Char continued. "I know a guy who has a friend whose wife is cousins with the head publisher from some company. I can put in a good word for you, get your work to go directly to her."

_Breathe in. Breathe out._

"Oh, how nice! What a great opportunity! This could be a job for you, a livelihood, if your books get published."

_Breathe in. Breathe out. Run faster._

"Yeah, if you make enough, you can leave this place, get your own house!"

_Hit the stop button and slow to a walk, panting._

"What do you think?" Jo-lee pressed.

"I...am sick...I am...unfit...to leave this...hospital," I responded, monotone, as I walked off the treadmill, breathing hard. The two women watched me, stunned, as I left for the showers.

* * *

_**August 9, 2006.**_

* * *

"I heard you have finally decided to start your next book."

"Yes, it's 2006. I can start during her missing year."

"I beg your pardon?"

"Superstitious, I am...superstitious," I answer instead.

"So I see," Dr. Dogers nodded jerkily, jotting down some notes.

"They want me to publish."

"I've heard," Dogers confirmed.

"I don't want to."

"I've heard that also," he kept on writing.

"What do you think I should do?"

The writing stopped, his hand frozen above the clipboard.

"What should I do, Doctor?" I repeated, insistently.

"It's not my-"

"What should I do?" I pressed.

"...Publish," he finally said after a long pause.

"Why?" I asked settling back into my seat, now that he started to give me straight answers, something easy for me to understand.

"To confirm or confront your fears, whatever they may be," he took off his reading glasses, finally looking me in the eyes. I looked back, entranced. "Either they come true or they prove false. You should know by this year's end...if you publish now."

"Thank you," I said, smiling genuinely.

Dr. Dogers looked away, "Don't thank me for doing my job, Penny."

"Yes, Doctor. Sorry, Doctor." I was still grinning, the longest I've maintained an expression other than deadpan.

He sighed.

* * *

_**July 23, 2007.**_

* * *

"Penny, Penny, look, look, you're on the news!" Mrs. Zimmerman crooned, delighted. "Come, come! Come and see!"

Reluctantly, I looked up at the television where there was, in fact, a picture of my face staring back unsmilingly. My eyes were too wide, skin too pale, hair long and slightly bushy, face unearthly still.

I looked crazy.

"_Penny Carter is currently a new, hot, best-selling author for both online stories _and _book in print, surpassing even that of Stephenie Meyer in popularity in Young Adult Literature. The series, _'Doctor Who,'_ has taken the internet world by storm. Not much is known about the author, besides what has been provided by the Fergus Falls Community Behavior Health Hospital. She-"_

I turned the television off by walking over and pressing the power button. Without another word, I left the room.

* * *

_**August 21, 2007.**_

* * *

Penny, what made you write these books? Where would you say they came from?" The reporter asked eagerly, hushed, since she technically wasn't supposed to be there.

"I've been told that my life is nothing but fiction, that most of the ideas in my head weren't true, either, that I was crazy," I said quietly. The other sound in the room was the sound of our breathing, my voice, and her tape recorder that was recording every word of the secret interview. "Originally, it was just a way to get the ideas out of my head, I wrote so that I could keep everything straight. So, I wrote about a mad man in a blue box."

"So, you consider the Doctor as an angry individual?"

I paused before giving a brief smile, "No, not really, not when he had Rose. He's more of a sad and lonely old man, the last of his kind with no home to go to anymore."

"What do you mean by 'mad,' then?"

"I meant the British slang definition."

"Which means…?" She pressed, and suddenly, I knew what she wanted from me, I frowned.

"It means crazy, and he is. Over sixteen hundred years would probably do that to anyone."

"So, if you could describe him in one word, it would be 'crazy?'" The reporter pressed again with a funny look in her eyes. I didn't like it.

"No, the word I would use...is _kind. _1,674 years of loss, pain, and sadness...and it just made him more kind. He's lonely, the last of his species. When someone cries out for help, he's usually the first there on the scene, saving the Universe, saving the Earth."

"So, he's a superhero? What about Cassandra? What about that Dalek? That wasn't very hero-like…"

"When people think of heroes, they think of the stereotypical, knight-in-shining-armor sort. These heroes don't exist, not really. The Doctor's a soldier from a war, and he's had to make an impossible decision, the hardest decision, to save everything that ever was or will be. He tries to be merciful, he gives chances, but when it comes to people like Cassandra or that Dalek, there...are no second chances. That's how life works. You get chances, but after you cross a certain point…" I stopped, unable to continue that line of thought. Finally, I said, "The Doctor is what happens when a good man goes to war."

"..." The reporter was stunned.

"Thank you for coming to visit me, but you better leave now, if you don't want to get in trouble…"

"R-right, thank you for having an interview with me, Penny. H-have a good night."

"Likewise."

* * *

_**August 29, 2007.**_

* * *

"So, you had an interview, your statements are public now," Dr. Dogers said, twitching nervously, like usual.

"..." I didn't say anything, staring off into space.

"How do you feel about that?"

"I don't...really _care _anymore," I muttered. "I'm just so _tired._ I can't think straight. I can't sleep. I can't think. I can only write."

"Do you want to stop? You can take something that-"

"No!" I leaped out of my seat, causing Dr. Dogers to jolt back, startled. I took a calming breath, "No...It's just...it's how I remain sane. Please don't take that away from me…" I sank back down in my seat, but Dr. Dogers still remained tense and alert, watching me with new sight.

"Alright…"

* * *

_**March 28, 2008.**_

* * *

I stayed in either my room or the chapel most days then, too anxious to leave or be anywhere else most times. Something had happened, I knew, I just didn't remember what. I refused to watch the news or the television. I especially avoided the other patients, some of them insisted that I was a prophet or a seer. 'They're crazy,' I said to myself. 'Just like me, they're sick and not in their right mind. Aliens don't exist...'

But still, the foreboding feeling that I had forgotten something terribly important plagued my mind.

I became a social shut in, not even reading my stories out loud anymore like I once did. It was the only other thing I did besides praying at the chapel, holed up in my room, or ran on the treadmill like my life depended on it. It was the one thing the really, truly ever made me happy, and it...it was starting to fade away. I was starting to forget that joy as my mind got more and more clouded. It scared me, so I started running less and less.

I was wasting away, I could feel it. I was losing myself. I was wasting away, my sanity diminishing.

I doubted everything. As far as I was concerned, I was a mentally ill, paranoid, and delusional individual. And I wasn't, not really, but with the medicine I was taking, forcing this fog in my mind, I was more susceptible to influence by others. They were so sure that I was crazy, that I believed it too, and developed the habits and tendencies of a disturbed person.

I was wasting away, and it was killing me, slowly, I was dying.

But there was one thing, one thought that plagued my mind constantly.

Every morning, every day, every evening, every night, always, _constantly, _at every waking-and sometimes sleeping-moment.

"_What have I forgotten?"_

* * *

_**September 5, 2008.**_

* * *

Not even my timid theory that I held proved true. I didn't somehow go into a parallel dimension to where the Doctor was, like I had thought, hoped. Maybe this was for the better. I could finally accept this as proof that everything I had thought was real, was actually false. This must've been the wake up signal I was looking for.

Still, even if only to myself privately, I had the sinking feeling that even if everything was real and the Doctor did exist, he wouldn't be able to return me home.

My home was gone, I knew it.

Deep in my heart, I knew this to be true.

* * *

_**December 23, 2008.**_

* * *

Lately, I had been struck with a feeling of homesickness, a longing for home after my acceptance of its false nature and figurative demise. Unfortunately, I had nothing to describe it differently from Reality, as it was too similar.

So, I wrote about what I knew was false.

I wrote about Gallifrey, a home that was also gone forever. I felt that, in that moment, the Doctor and I were one and the same: _homeless._

I blinked.

_Burnt orange skies with grey wisps of clouds flying…_

The sky was a rusty-tangerine color that somehow didn't surprise me as I looked up and over to the horizon. Two suns were at different locations as they went through their nine hour time in the sky with the moon, _Pazithi Gallifreya_, going through her twenty-seven day orbit, bright enough to be seen while the other moon hid almost shyly. Often the sky also flashed purple, green, and yellow lights, and sometimes, the sky flashed the soft baby-blue that we always saw up in our sky.

Startled at the sudden onslaught of information, I blinked again.

_Winds whisper through the silver leaves with a soft sighing…_

The scintillating, metallic-esque foliage glimmered at night, sending rays of the two moons' soft glow as it reflected off of them. The steel-colored leaves grew on the Kaden-Wood trees. Their natural color was silver, but it could appear to set itself aflame in the suns-light, varying from angry-orange, golden-yellow, scarlet-red, and occasional a reddish-violet. When the wind blew through it most times, they sighed in various pitches, but it was autumn. When the wind blew through and around the leaves, they sang as they were caressed by the gentle breeze.

Blink.

_Red grasses brush against our legs as we dance slowly…_

I could feel the grass, long that it was, and I saw a woman ahead of me spinning in slow, lazy circles. Her hair blowing from the soft zephyrs as they blew gently on the warm, autumn air. She seemed to sing in chorus with the Kaden-Wood trees as she swayed with them in the wind. _"Join me, join me..." _She called, urging me to twirl and be weightless against the wind so I could dance in it with her.

Blink.

_My love lasts forever and comes while I remember fondly…_

I was in golden fields of the Continent of Serene Isolation near the Ruins of Temple Rythia. The Maldor trees crying out in the own haunting way, but not quite as wistfully or pining as the Kaden-Wood trees; the bronze leave writhing and shivering as the trees swayed slightly. The bronze trees let out a keening lament as if grieving over the lost city and its absent Time Lords and Gallifreyans. They, the people, never usually came here, so far away from civilization and most of the outsiders were either in the wastelands, forests, or mountains.

I saw her, the woman, again as she closed her eyes and lamented with the trees, giving voice to their melancholy song, _"That day has gone and they are no longer...We are forsaken, there's no time anymore...Life will pass us by and leave us resigned...We are forsaken, only ruins stay behind..." _Her voice wavered as it rose and fell, mourning their loss and loneliness. She sang with a sort of controlled tremulousness, her voice ached with vulnerability, but never broke.

Blink.

_Snowflakes that drift from the heavens like fallen stars…_

Snow fell from the skies very rarely on Gallifrey, even though they were in the middle of what was considered an ice age, since rain was few and far between. My breath fogged the air in front of me. The fragile flakes rested on my eyelashes as they fluttered rapidly, blinking to keep the snowflakes out of my eyes. When I closed my eyelids, I felt the water crystals carefully land there and melt slowly. I remained standing, eyes closed, but the moment I opened them, the scenery changed.

_And catching shimmering beatitude flies in glass jars…_

I could smell the crisp night air and the scent of fragrant, blue, bell-like flowers. The flashing bugs came to the mountains only a few times every four seasons out of their twenty-four. It was a favorite game for young Gallifreyan to go catch these glistening and glittering creatures in fogged stained-glass jars. The jars were never in a plain white or yellow. They came in a variety of colors like reds, blues, greens, oranges, purples, and other colors that were outside of the color range of most species. The beatitude flies only came out (or maybe were only easy to find) after the both the suns had set and it became night. For that short period of time, the phosphorescent bodies were truly visible and shone clear and bright in the dim light of the moons.

Laughter rang in the fields as the children listened for the tell-tale _chir-reep! chir-re-eep!_ of those gorgeous flies, hard to catch but so beautiful to behold in those glass jars. An hour before dawn, just when the other beatitude flies were leaving, they released the ones they had caught all at once. A glorious blizzard and vortex of light occurred from the flies dancing in the night air. The symphony of the cries of _chir-reep! chir-re-eep!_ surrounded us all.

With a gasp and a jolt, I broke out of my trace, panting. I rested shaking hands against my throbbing head, trying to soothe the sudden migraine that had appeared. Paranoid, my eyes quickly scoped the room for any witnesses.

I was alone.

* * *

_**To Be Continued...**_

* * *

_**Edit:** _I combined the old chapters 4 and 5. It made more cohesive sense.

**_Poll: _**Closed. The winner is the Tenth Doctor at seven votes. His companion will be Donna.

**_Explanations:_**

*The undifferentiated subtype is diagnosed when people have symptoms of schizophrenia that are not sufficiently formed or specific enough to permit classification of the illness into one of the other subtypes. The symptoms of any one person can fluctuate at different points in time, resulting in uncertainty as to the correct subtype classification. Other people will exhibit symptoms that are remarkably stable over time but still may not fit one of the typical subtypes.

* Fergus Falls Regional Treatment Center is an actual place in Fergus Falls, Minnesota. It was closed in 2005, but it had been moving patients to smaller, community-based facilities for two decades. Minnesota sold the land to Fergus Falls in 2007. In May 2012, the building's future was uncertain. Preservationists have fought to save the main building, which was placed on the National Register of Historic Places in 1986.

Yet the city of Fergus Falls argued that the building was too large for a small town to redevelop or maintain and has considered demolishing it. In October 2012, Colliers Real Estate listed the building for sale. In May 2013, the City Council considered plans to renovate the building for residential and commercial use by developers, including one with experience in preservation of historic June the same year, a proposal was accepted by the City Council to renovate the building. The proposal included a hotel, apartments, restaurants, and a spa.

* Fergus Falls Community Behavioral Health Hospital is a hospital close to the Regional Treatment Center.

* Some of the side-effects of Lurasidone are: Absence of or decrease in body movement, loss of balance control, mask-like face, restlessness, rigid or stiff muscles, shakiness in the legs/arms/hands/feet, shuffling walk, confusion, dizziness, fixed position of the eye, nervousness, pale skin, unusual tiredness or weakness, weakness in the arm or leg on one side of the body (sudden and severe), loss of appetite, anxiety, relaxed and calm, unable to sleep, and abnormal dreams, among other things.

* The Fifth that Dr. Pierce was referring to was the right to remain silent.

*I have no clue whether or not "Head of Directories" is the right term, but I think it works alright.

* Before there is further confusion, Penny is only an online author, currently. She would have written up to 'The Empty Child' online in the year 2009. She won't start publishing in print until 2010 with the first book: 'Doctor Who: Rose.'

* Yes, the number 1,647 was correct. The Doctor was over 900 years old in his seventh regeneration. Then he claimed to be 900 once again in his ninth regeneration. Something wasn't adding up.

'**1150** (1 year before the War)

**1151** (a few days before the Event) The Ancestor Cell (from Gallifrey's POV): The Doctor (who is only 1018 at this point) arrives on Gallifrey and offers to supply Type 102 TARDISes and solve the riddle of the Edifice.

**1807** (900 AF) (900 years after starting over on counting his age / after 900 years of traveling time and space / he might actually be older than 900 years old)'

As quoted from the site _Rassilon, Omega, and that Other guy_. With a bit of mathematical magic, I calculated his age. The site also mentioned the Doctor being reborn at one point, but I think that was from a doomed timeline that doesn't exist anymore, it's hard to tell. The Doctor has a super confusing timeline, seriously. :/ At the point Penny meets the Doctor, he's 1,677 years old, yeah.

* As to what she's forgotten, I've given you all the clues you need in the date. What happened in Doctor Who lore in the Year 2008, or rather, what happened for a year and then _didn't_ happen?

* Those cool, rhyme-y, poem, lyric-like stuff is part of the poem I did for Gallifrey which can be found on my profile, titled: 'A Lament for Gallifrey.' Not as lame as it sounds, I swear!

* Also the part that the woman sang for the Maldor trees is based off of the song 'Forsaken' by Within Temptation. It totally set the mood for this chapter!

**_Advertisements:_**

**TITLE: **The Stars and a Little Bit More

**AUTHOR: **ArcticJacs

**ID: **10177874

**SUMMARY: **Kylie isn't a stranger to time and space travel. Far from it. She has a Timepiece embedded into her arm, and it has given her the opportunity to see things out of this world - literally. She never expected it to crash, though. She didn't expect to find herself stranded in Earth. And she never, ever, expected to find stuff of legends and stories: the last Time Lord. [DoctorxOC]

**OPINION: **It's different, finally I found a fan fiction where the main character is an alien that isn't a Time Lord! It's worth checking out, I assure you. It takes place with the Judoon Upon the Moon, and it goes from there. Kylie's personality is also a bit different from usual. A refreshing read.

* * *

**TITLE: **The Traveler's Guide to the Universe

**AUTHOR: **Fan Fictional Authoress

**ID:** 9366006

**SUMMARY: **My sister had made it seem so easy, being an explorer and star-grapher. I wanted to go out there so badly, and she wanted to be a professor but there was no job openings. We were identical twins before I left and it was so perfect! But I left for the great big universe and everyone died, everything changed. I travel with the one who killed them, but he is all I have left of home.

**OPINION: **It may be a little self-serving to advertise my own story, but why not? It is probably my most researched story I ever made besides my 'A Ring of Endless Light' fan fiction. Also a different take on an overused plot that is rarely done well. So why don't you check it out?

* * *

_**Thought Process:**_

First thing's first, I would like to thank my lovely Beta, emptyvoices, for being awesome and helping me through the painful process that is chapter six. I'm hoping that the chapters will get easier from there, but we'll see.

Spring Break has started for me, but I'm not going to update any faster. Instead, I'm going to stock up on chapters and slowly dole them out, that way there shouldn't be long hiatuses... Is that right? Hiatuses? Or is it hiati?

Whatever.

Penny is in a mental institution. Things get worse for Penny's sanity from here... There might be some triggers, I don't know for sure, but just in case, be warned. The next chapter is when the Doctor finally comes on the scene.

So yeah, in this chapter, Penny's finally starting to lose it. Yay... You know, the sad thing is, when Penny was first admitted, she was almost completely sane (or as much as a person could be for all she went through) but now she's actually starting to lose it. Weird how that works right? ...Wow, that sounded terrible. Just ignore it, yeah, pretend this paragraph doesn't exist.

Things will start to look up for Penny after this chapter.

That was a lie I just told you.

It get worse for Penny.

Much, much worse.

I'm such a liar.

Really, I am.

And evil.

So, yeah, I think that's about it... Bless your face, and if you sneezed during this chapter, bless you.

Happy Friday,

FFA, the Fan Fictional Authoress

P.S. - Vote Saxxon!

_Old Chapter 4's Date Submitted: _Friday, March 21, 2014.

_Old Chapter 5's Date Submitted: _Monday, March 24, 2014.

_Date Updated: _Friday, March 28, 2014.


	4. I Doubted Myself

**_All translations, explanations, advertisements, polls, and thought processes are at the end of the chapter._**

**____****Disclaimer: All shows/ books/ video games/ songs that are mentioned in this chapter are all © to their respective owners, I don't own them.**

* * *

After a delicious meal in the kitchen and a nice, long shower, Donna wanted nothing more than to curl up with a good book next to a fireplace. Did the TARDIS even have a fireplace for that matter? _Then again_, thought Donna, _if a space-ship could travel through time and space, was bigger on the inside, and seemed to go on forever in any direction, it was bound to have a fireplace of some sort...probably._

The trouble was finding said fireplace or a book at the very least. It might've been more prudent to just give up the search as a lost cause and attempt to find her own room before it got too late, but if Donna was one thing, it was stubborn and _very_ stubborn at that. And also, because she was Donna, she _did_ find the library, after a good bit of searching. Donna's first impression of it was cavernous; simply_ massive_. The British Library, _the largest library in the world_, probably didn't have smidgen of the amount of books in this library.

Donna wondered if this was the largest library in the Universe, and, if not, what was? She vowed to ask the Doctor that later after scoping out this one. Surely, he wouldn't mind if she snooped around a bit, found a couple of good mystery books or, ironically, some sci-fi novels.

Donna snorted, _aliens_, reading _sci-fi _books, they were probably stuck between laughing and being insulted.

Knowing the Doctor, they were a comedy to him, good for a laugh as he tore the theories apart. She could hear him now, "Wrong, wrong, wrong...Ooh, a bit right but mostly wrong...Hey, I started that line of thinking _ages _ago..."

Stifling her laughter, Donna made her way to the science fiction section of the library as denoted by a very large and very helpful sign. Scanning through the volume titles, she wondered which book she should offer to him to read. She also wondered how long it would take him to realize he was reading a sci-fi book if she switched its removable sleeves with that of a mystery book.

_**Thump!**_

Donna jumped and whirled around, arms up as if to punch the lights out of any nearby attacker. Fortunately or unfortunately, depending on whether you were the attacker or Donna, there was nothing there but a book that had appeared to have fallen from one the shelves. Still, Donna peered around suspiciously before shaking the event off as nothing extraordinary. Maybe the TARDIS was helping her pick out a book, the Doctor did say something about it being telepathic.

'_Thanks, I guess,'_ Donna thought, trying to broadcast her thoughts to the sentient ship. _'Next time, though, try not to kill me with fright, took about ten years off of my life.' _Curious as to the TARDIS's taste in books, Donna picked it up, only to just about drop it again in surprise at the title: _'Doctor Who: Rose.'_

"What on Earth…" Donna muttered, eyes scanning the front briefly before flipping it over to read the description on the back.

'_Rose Tyler is just an ordinary shop worker living an ordinary life in 21st century Britain. But that life is turned upside down when a strange man calling himself The Doctor drags her into an alien invasion attempt!'_

"Now,_ I wonder _why _that_ sounds familiar?" Donna quipped sarcastically. "He didn't tell me he was famous enough to end up in a book. I wonder what year it was published in, let's see…" The sound of ruffling pages could be heard as Donna opened the book and he page with all the publisher information. After a quick search, Donna was stunned to find the date-

"2010?" She cried in disbelief. "This was published not too far away from my time, I never even noticed? Better yet, he never even said anything? A certain space-man has got a lot of explaining to do… Being famous and not saying anything..." Abandoning her previous goals of a curling up with a good book next to the fire and tricking the Doctor to read a sci-fi book, Donna exited the library, determined to get some answers, and maybe ask for an autograph as a laugh.

She wandered the halls, getting more and more hopelessly lost. Fed up, she hollered out, "Doctor? Doctor! ...Oi, Space-man! You should install a map in here or something. It's like labyrinth in here." Still, she got no answer from her wayward pilot. There was, however, a sound of something shifting and moving. Curious, she followed the sound and peek around the corridor.

Before her very eyes, the hallways shifted and moved until they became one straight hallway. If she listened, Donna could hear the sound of music playing loudly down the newly created hallway. "Well that explains some things. Shifting hallways, it's as bad as Hogwarts castle in here. No wonder why there aren't any maps in here. They wouldn't be of any use!"

Now confident of her destination, Donna jogged down the hallway to the console room. She found the Doctor underneath the console, tinkering away to some loud music blaring away. She could spot his trainer-clad waving side to side in time with the tune. His voice was cheerfully joining in chorus, _"We can go when we want to. The night is young and so am I. And we can dress real neat from our hats to our feet, and surprise 'em with the victory cry-"_

"-Doctor," Donna interrupted, trying to gain his attention.

The Doctor didn't hear her. _"Say, we can act if we want to. If we don't, nobody will. And you can act real rude and totally removed. And I can act like an imbecile-"_

"-Oi, Space-man!"

He jumped, knocking his knock and letting out a loud groan, curling up slightly, "Ow! That hurt!" Scooting out from under the control panel, he peered up at her, "Alright there, Donna?"

"I could ask you the same thing! Didn't hit your head too hard, did you?" She asked bending down slightly.

"Nah," he waved her concern off. "It's fine."

"Yeah, I suppose. You're a bit thick sometimes, it _would_ take a tad more than that, wouldn't it?"

"Hey, I'm not _that_ bad...usually."

"Ha, right, Space-man. Anyway, what do you make of this?" Donna handed him the book she found in the library, watching his reaction closely, more than ready to jokingly ask him for that autograph. The Doctor wiped out his glasses and slipped them on, peering at the book. Eyebrows raised, he flipped it over to read that back.

Rather abruptly, the slightly amused expression he had been wearing froze and slipped from his face completely. Hurriedly, he checked the publisher information as he scrambled to his feet. "Donna, this is very important. I need you to tell me how you found this book."

"I didn't find it, it found me! I was in the library, looking for something to read in the science fiction section when that fell from a shelf." Donna shrugged.

"For no reason?" He persisted, eyes gazing at her intently, eyes alternating between glancing at the book, the console he was fiddling with, and her.

"None that I could see. Also, you need to get a map. If the TARDIS hadn't rearranged the hallways, it would've taken me ages longer to here. It's a bloody maze in here."

"The TARDIS rearranging the hallways? A book about my past randomly falling from a shelf? ...And now a random date close to the one in the book already set up for us to go to," the Doctor mused out loud. "I think the Old Girl is trying to tell us something."

"A brilliant deduction, Sherlock," Donna said flatly.

"Why, thank you, Watson," the Doctor volleyed back. _"Allonse-y!"_

* * *

"So you're saying that this book isn't supposed to exist?" Donna asked.

"Nope!" The Doctor answered airily.

"And you're saying if we don't find out who's publishing these books, it could endanger the timelines?"

"Yep," he answered, popping the 'p.'

"...And you're just going to hack into the US records for the author, find out their address, and go investigate this person before removing all records of these books online?"

"Yep, the books are only online so far in May 2009 where we're headed. This book that you found doesn't get published until a year and two months later in July. I'm going to put this virus," he waved a cd between his thumb and forefinger, drawing attention to it. "In a computer as soon as we step outside, and it will remove all records of me everywhere."

Donna chewed on that for a bit as the Doctor continued to type away. "Alright, alright...that's fine and all, but won't that, oh, I don't know mess up your timelines still?"

"What do you mean?" He finally looked up at her.

"Well, if you erase it, it won't have existed, so we'd have never found out about it. Then it wouldn't have been published as a book, and I wouldn't be able to tell you then. And-"

"Whoa there, Donna, that's an easy fix," the Doctor assured her.

"How do you mean?"

"I go get a book made to look exactly like this," the Doctor waved the book side to side, continuing, "And then put it in the TARDIS library. I think I got a Duplicator Ray Gun _somewhere_… What? What's that look for?"

"A Duplicator Ray Gun?" Donna asked in disbelief.

"I didn't come up with the name," he defended himself. "The DRG is still pretty brilliant, no need to knock it."

"You know what? Forget it. So who's the author and where does he or she live? Also, what are we going to do about 'em?"

"The author is Penelope Elaine Carter, ooh, I like that, Penelope Elaine Carter. Kind of rolls off the tongue doesn't it?" At Donna's look, he cleared his throat, "Right, well, I don't really know what we're going to do yet, Donna, but this needs to stop, regardless. Anyway, according to this, Penelope Elaine Carter lives in...Oh."

"_Oh?_ Oh, _what?"_ Donna asked, alarmed. "She's not _dead_ is she?"

"What? No! It's just that, well…"

"Well, _what?_ Just spit it out!"

"She lives at Fergus Falls Community Behavioral Health Hospital."

"Meaning?"

"Penelope Elaine Carter is in a mental institution."

"Oh."

* * *

"Hello, I'm the Doctor!" Said Doctor pleasantly greeted the reception desk, only to get a flat look from the lady manning it and suspicious glances from a nurse that was off-duty.

"_The_ Doctor?" She asked carefully, finger discreetly hovering over the panic button.

Quickly realizing his mistake, the Doctor continued, "Yes, the one who came all the way across the pond to see one Penelope Elaine Carter. I'm Dr. Smith, the new psychiatrist that she was transferred to. I work for the Cygnet Hospital Harrogate in Yorkshire. We specialize with cases like Penelope's, and it is to both her benefit and ours that we've come here to help."

The suspicious looks died away and the nurse manning the desk was a bit more forthcoming. "Oh, I see. In that case, please let me see your credentials and transfer documentation."

Internally sighing in relief, the Doctor handed over the forged documentation to the woman before looking at Donna with both eyebrows raised and a relieved grin. Donna returned the grin with a smile of her own, before looking back at the nurse behind the desk. "Chief Physician Smith, everything seems to be in order. I'm sure you'll want to meet with our Chief Physician, Dr. Kowalski, and Penny's current psychiatrist, Dr. Dogers, before bringing her with you back to England."

"That would be brilliant. Also, my assistant, Miss Noble here, would like to have all of Penelope's files on her case, to help decide the best courses of action and treatments necessary," the Doctor added, giving a meaningful look to Donna that basically told her to just go snoop around and maybe find Penelope.

"This way, Dr. Smith," the nurse who had been leaning against the wall before beckoned.

"Follow me, Miss Noble, to the file rooms. They aren't too far away, so I can leave the desk for a bit just to show you where they are. The files are sorted alphabetically by last name…" The woman's voice faded away as the Doctor followed his escort down the hallway to Chief Physician Kowalski's office. Hopefully he could bluff his way through the whole thing and find out just what Penelope Elaine Carter knew and, more importantly, _how_ she knew exactly.

The Doctor had his theories, but for everyone's sake, he hoped he was wrong. The world didn't need another psychic that was as accurate as this one was, down to the last word even! Penelope could be dangerous in the wrong hands, he couldn't leave her here. She was bound to the catch the attention of UNIT or Torchwood the moment she started publishing books out in print. And with how much she knew, it would be not good. It would be _very _not good, indeed.

* * *

"Come in," a man said after the door to his office was knocked. They entered, the Doctor not too far behind the nurse. "Yes? Who's this?"

"Dr. Kowalski, sir, this is the Chief Physician of a hospital in, uh, Yorkshire, England. His name is Dr. Smith. He's here in regards to a transfer of one of our patients."

"Oh, well then, come in, come in, have a seat, Dr. Smith," Dr. Kowalski beckoned. The Doctor took a seat in one of the chairs in front of the man, casually looking around the office. The nurse excused herself, presumably to go get Dr. Dogers. "So you're here to transfer one of our patients is that right?"

The Doctor had to suppress a groan, he wasn't one for small talk, but this meeting required precision; he had to be careful, delicate, and very, _very_ lucky. "One Penelope Elaine Carter is going to be transferred to our facilities at the Cygnet Hospital Harrogate in Yorkshire. She has gained our interest as a case study in schizophrenia, as we are a researched-based facility and are hoping to learn more about the mental disorder."

"But why go overseas? I'm sure there are plenty of patients in England who are just as good of a case study as Penny," Kowalski threw out, trying to play the Devil's Advocate. The Doctor only saw it as a poor vie at a power-play, the chief Physician didn't really care whether or not Penelope got transferred in the end, not really, unless it came as a disadvantage to his hospital, which was part of the reason for his question. What would his hospital lose that some other hospital in Europe would gain?

The Doctor wanted to be disgusted or upset, but in the end, he couldn't blame Kowalski for this mindset. There must've been over a hundred patients in this particular hospital and not all of them stayed very long. This man most likely will never meet over three fifths of the patients and probably only remember a handful of them. It didn't really pay to remember each one of those people as a person. That wasn't Kowalski's job as Chief Physician, rather is was how to keep this hospital running at optimum strength. He was the perfect business man.

The Doctor carefully considered the question while maintaining an outward appearance of ease. "True, but Penelope has _complete dependence on the government._ According to her files, she has _no known family _and is considered to be a l_ong-term,_ possibly f_or life_, patient. She fits our criteria perfectly, as we've been looking for a case that we can observe for the _long-run_. Also, her case already has a solid base to start with, s_ix years worth_ of data! She would be a great asset in helping us find new possibilities in terms of treatment."

Kowalski's carefully veiled expression told the Doctor all he need to know that he had won the man over. Long-term patients were usually the bane of hospitals if they were dependent on the government. It was much harder to bill the government than it was families or guardians. In the end, it would benefit Kowalski more to open up a space in his hospital, since if he was able to commit more patients, he might get more income. This was not including the favor this hospital in Europe would owe him.

Kowalski finally nodded, "I accept the transfer request. We only need to have Dr. Dogers's input on the matter and his thoughts, but I'm sure he'll agree. And, if not, a good explanation and reasoning that we hopefully can come to a compromise with."

"Sir?" A deep voice came behind the Doctor, and he turned, expect anything but the twitchy, waif of a man behind him. "You wanted to see me about Penny?"

"Dr. Dogers, yes, I did. More specifically, I wanted to see you about her transfer to Cygnet Hospital in Yorkshire."

"Yes, the Cygnet Hospital _Harrogate _would like to have Penelope be admitted to their research program in terms of new treatment," the Doctor said, not so mildly correcting Kowalski.

Dr. Dogers frowned, "Why was I not informed sooner? When do you plan to take her with you?"

"Today, if possible. You see, we also have other patients that are also being transferred into our care, and we want them to have time to meet and get to know each other, since this is going to be a mixture of group and individual therapy," the Doctor fibbed smoothly, knowing that this doctor would be the hardest to convince, since this one seemed to have formed a bond of some sort with Penelope.

"Today? Penny has no warning of this at all, she doesn't do well with change," Dogers exclaimed, aghast.

"She hasn't had a change of environment since she had been admitted into this hospital," the Doctor pointed out drily. "And surely you can't be referring to small changes in routine?"

"No, but-"

"-Dr. Dogers, Penelope has been here for close to four years now, with little to no signs of improvement," Kowalski interrupted. "It would be to her benefit if she had a change in therapy, she might actually improve."

"She also might regress," Dogers stubbornly refuted. "Sir, this is so sudden and with no warning. Why haven't we been informed sooner? This man comes from nowhere, claiming to be part of a program that transfers patients from hospitals on one side of the planet to other. I'm a little skeptical."

Trouble was starting to brew, the Doctor could feel it. He had to stop this line of thought before it got any further, _now. _"Actually, it _has _been discussed before. If only in terms of paperwork."

"_What?" _Both men asked, turning to face the Doctor.

"Chief Physician Kowalski, you've signed this transfer request yourself close to half a year ago, see?" The Doctor pulled out a replicated form that he printed out and forged the signature of Dr. Kowalski that he found by hacking into the hospital's data banks. Kowalski wouldn't be able to tell the difference between his signature and the Doctor's forged one.

The man looked slightly embarrassed, obviously not a remembering an event that had never happened in the first place, but unwilling to admit that he didn't recall signing a document that turned out to be very important. With Kowalski's silence, the Doctor knew he had won the right to take Penny with him. The chief physician obviously signed many documents before that had requested transfers, he just didn't remember who the patients were or where they were going, often being unable to remember the exact details by the end of the day, let alone six months later.

'_Got you,' _he sing-songed mentally, hiding a grin behind a faux confused look. "Don't tell me you forgot such a crucial matter, Dr. Kowalski."

"Oh, it must've slipped my mind between all the other forms I've signed, my apologies, Dr. Smith," Dr. Kowalski said, fretting over the Doctor's response. He turned to Dr. Dogers, "Through no fault of Dr. Smith's, I've neglected to tell you about the upcoming transfer. You will excuse this slight inconvenience, _right,_ Dogers?"

The slighter man looked like he wanted dearly to protest, but knew in the end that his opinion didn't matter at all and that nothing he could say would change anything. "Yes, sir."

"Good, good, then show Dr. Smith to his new patient and inform Penny of the news of her transfer. Have a good day gentlemen, and I hope you'll remain in contact, Dr. Smith." Kowalski reached out to shake the Doctor's hand.

"Yes, likewise," the Doctor said, grinning and not quite specifying which part of the statement he was agreeing to.

* * *

The Doctor had been hoping that Dr. Dogers would at least try to be civil about the whole thing, but the man took it upon himself to pretend that the Doctor didn't even exist. _'Fair enough,'_ the Time Lord thought. _'I'm taking away your patient, leaving you with little chance to say goodbye.' _Still, the man could've been a bit more professional about the whole thing.

While they were walking down the halls, the Doctor noticed someone up ahead, a girl who couldn't have been older than her teens was looking at them with something akin to fear. He felt a stab of pity for her, obviously a patient in this hospital with those clothes and heavily drugged with some sort of antipsychotic drug, if her posture and appearance were any indicators. The Doctor didn't like having anyone look at him so fearfully, let alone someone who he had never met before.

"Hello," he greeted kindly with a smile and a wave, hoping to both diffuse the fear in her eyes and make Dogers finally acknowledge his existence, if only to snap at him.

His actions only seemed to scare her even more, for she started screaming in terror, "You don't exist, leave me alone! Go away, go away, go away!"

"Penny!" Dr. Dogers said in shock. "It's me, Dogers, your psychiatrist, don't you recognize me?"

Her eyes briefly moved slightly to the side, fixing on the man, before moving back to their original position. The Doctor realized, with a start, that the girl had been looking at him, personally, the whole time and she was the Penelope he was looking for. "

"Stop, not one step closer! I won't let you torment me anymore, you apparition! They said you don't exist, so get! Leave this instance!" She pointed a shaking finger out in a random direction, trying to put on a brave front in the face of her fear.

"Oh, Penny," Dogers sighed, "I didn't realize that it had gotten this bad for you. This man next to me is, in fact, real. His name is Dr. Smith, he's here to-"

"Don't believe him, it's just an alias! His real name is the Doctor, just the Doctor! Not John Smith or _Dr._ John Smith, just the Doctor!" Penny admonished, eyes oscillating between the two of them. "And even then, that's just his Time Lord title!"

The Doctor froze. No, there was no way that she could know his _true _name, could there? The look in her eyes though, she had seen his momentary look of panic and hope started to fill them. She open her mouth to say something, and right then, the Doctor knew that he couldn't risk it. "Penelope Elaine Carter," he intoned, his voice thick and deep. "I am real, and I _do_ exist. I also don't appreciate you saying things that you have no right to say."

The girl trembled under the weight of his words, unable to talk any longer. Instead, she did the only thing she could do, run. The Doctor was quick to chase after her, unwilling to let her get away so easily.

* * *

The last thing I had been expecting while walking away from the chapel was the face of someone that I had been assured repeatedly was merely a delusion of mine. That the person whose actor had never existed here or any of his incarnations actors ever existed. A person who was merely a work of fiction of my creation. Someone who shouldn't exist, _at all_,and was walking next to my psychiatrist towards my direction.

I think I was justified in freaking out, if only just a little.

The must-be-hallucination noticed me first. "Hello," he said charmingly, and why wouldn't he? He was a hallucination, they're probably all charming, aren't they? I wouldn't know, this was the first one that I had experienced that was interfering with my real life, was actually talking to me specifically, and was humanoid. He waved at me with a smile and Dr. Dogers didn't even seem to notice him, not even when he got close to clipping Dogers in the face. So I did what any sane (well, metaphorically speaking) person would do.

I screamed.

I screamed him that he wasn't real and that he needed to leave immediately. I was dismayed that Dr. Dogers was so quick to defend him, though. Didn't he see that the Doctor wasn't real and needed to leave immediately? Didn't he realise that just because the Doctor used alias that sounded real and legit, it didn't make him real? I tried to warn Dogers, really, I did, but he just didn't understand, he didn't believe.

I was on my own, I had to get the Doctor away, he couldn't stay. I almost felt for him, since he was always alone, with so many others leaving or dying, but he couldn't stay here with me. He wasn't even the right Doctor! Maybe this was a sign that I had to hurry up and finish up writing about him. I only had written six out of the fifty-six episodes I knew about though! I would snap before then, if I hadn't snapped now.

Wait! There, right there, he had recoiled when I said something about his real name! I didn't actually know it, no one did except for a select few. Maybe I could bluff and scare him away. Maybe once I did that, the delusions and visions wouldn't torment me anymore. Maybe I'll finally feel normal again! It was worth a try.

I opened my mouth to say something, but the apparition of the tenth Doctor beat me to the punch. "Penelope Elaine Carter," he said, his voice deep and compelling, freezing the words in my throat, choking on them.

"I am real, and I _do _exist."

I believed him.

"I also don't appreciate you saying things you have no right to say."

And, _oh_, how I feared him.

* * *

**_To Be Continued..._**

* * *

**_Translations:_**

* Allonse-y ~ Let's go.

_**Explanations:**_

* Remember, Penny is only an online author, currently. She would have written up to 'The Empty Child' online in the year 2009. She won't start publishing in print until 2010 with the first book: 'Doctor Who: Rose.' That book was how the Doctor found out in the first place, so it needs to be in the library, permanently (I figured that there would be the first time that a book would be duplicated. The next time the Doctor finds the book, he'll see a note to himself in it saying, 'this a duplicate, put it back and prevent a real one popping up in print' or something like that). The only thing the Doctor is preventing, is the books being published in print, because if he went back in time before they were written, Penny wouldn't remember her time in the mental institution. Plus, he's going to the date that the TARDIS preset for him, much the same way that the TARDIS drags the Doctor to other places, locations, and times.

* The song the Doctor is singing along to is called 'The Safety Dance' by Men Without Hats.

* There _is_ Cygnet Hospital Harrogate in Yorkshire that specializes in schizophrenia, but everything else was made up, as far as I am aware of.

* One of the Doctor's many talents is being able to do a flawless forgery from memory.

* Another one of this talent is his "voice magic," basically hypnotism with his voice. I will go into great depth with this next chapter.

* Yes, Penny is insane, this was the last straw for her. She will slowly gain back fractures and pieces of the person she once was, but in the end she will be someone completely different than the person she was before the void. In other words, I can't truly call her a self-insert, since she no longer retains all the faucets of my personality. Just bits and pieces of an extreme end of the spectrum of me.

_**Advertisements:**_

**TITLE:** Changing the Equation

**AUTHOR:** JustStandingHere

**ID:** 8534985

**SUMMARY:** Jenna Quigley never imagined her Saturday to end up like this, sealing up a tear in reality and stowing away on the TARDIS. Beats sitting on the couch with a bag of popcorn. Doctor and OC friendship fic.

**OPINION:** FINALLY, a fan fiction where the original character isn't in any way romantically involved with the Doctor or any of the characters in the Who-verse. It's kind of what I'm trying to go for in this story, friendship/platonic stuff. It also has some semblance of a plot, and a story that begins close to the end, trying to catch the audience up to speed. Good stuff.

_**Thought Process:**_

All right, once again, thank emptyvoices for being utterly fantastic. Seriously, without her, there would probably be only one chapter and you would still be waiting for the second one.

Okay, I've got serious business to talk about.

I moved out of my parents' house two months early. I got into a row with my step-dad who has got major issues and I'm currently living with my grandparents. I wasn't planning to move out until after graduation, but here we are...

So! What that means for you readers is a slower update time so that I can devote a major of my time to my studies to prove to my mom that I _can_ graduate, even if I'm living an hour away from my school. This will be the last update until sometime later next week, most likely, yeah...

On the bright side, we'll be heading for cannon waters in two more chapters or so after this one. On chapter six will be starting with Atmos and the Sontarans. Yay, we get to meet Martha! :D

So, yeah, and you will notice that I have done some major and not-so major edits. There's nothing too crazy done, just combining some chapters and having parallel-Penny be kidnapped instead of dead by drowning. You'll find out why later. ;)

Happy Friday,

FFA, the Fan Fictional Authoress

_Date Submitted: _Friday, March 28, 2014.


	5. I Feared Him

**_All translations, explanations, advertisements, polls, and thought processes are at the end of the chapter._**

**____****Disclaimer: All shows/ books/ video games/ songs that are mentioned in this chapter are all © to their respective owners, I don't own them.**

* * *

Donna's day was just getting stranger and stranger. First there was a woman in a mental institution who somehow was intimate with the knowledge of the Doctor's past, down to the exact dialogue, even. Then, there was the woman's file. Apparently, 'Penelope Elaine Carter' was under the impression that she was from the year 2013 and continued to believe that the actual date was ten years in the future. She also had fearsome delusions and hallucinations about "imaginary" monsters.

Some of them, to Donna's dismay, actually sounded familiar, meaning that Penelope wasn't crazy at all, but was actually ripped from her time and stuck in her own past. The Doctor needed to see this file immediately, but he was in that meeting… So Donna decided to go see the unfortunate woman and tell her the truth. There was only one problem with that idea.

Donna had no clue where Penelope's room was.

Nowhere in the file did it list her room number and Donna forgot exactly which hallway the nurse led her down earlier. However, she wasn't going just stand there and do nothing. The Doctor said to go investigate and that was exactly what she was going to do. Besides, maybe she would get lucky and find someone to help locate the woman's room.

Donna straightened her suit top and confidently strode out of the file room, holding Penelope's files in one arm. The best way to get around anywhere, as Donna learned from the Doctor, was to act as if you belonged.

* * *

I ran away from him. It was all I could do, run. Always running, never able to stay still and look behind me, for there lay madness. All I remembered from my past were lies and delusions, I couldn't remember what was real and what wasn't. In my state of mind, they were one and the same. The only things I could trust to be true were my Faith and my love of running.

I ran, because I was made for running, because when you run, you could be anyone. You hone yourself into a body, nothing more, nothing less, than that body. You respond as a body to a body. If I am racing to win, I have no thoughts but the body's thoughts, no goals but the body's goals. I obliterate myself, my sense of myself, in the name of speed. I negate myself to pass that finish line, whatever line that may be.

_And if it's the finish line of sanity, of me, then so be it, if it makes me acceptable to those I care for._

But even now, though, the joy of running is dissipating, it's losing the magic it once held for me. So I stop running. Not immediately, because you can never just simply stop running, but rather, I do it less and less, hoping if it became something rare, a treat for me, I would be able to retain that joy.

_I was wrong, the joy didn't stay._

And I worried that my Faith would be next, that I would lose the joy in that too. So, I finally gave up running, it was competition for my joy, so I decided to cease. My writing and my meditating became my life, hoping that it would bring me answers, some solace from this nightmare. It was working, I thought, it was helping, the visions weren't too hard to manage now, I could feel when they were coming. I could force myself to continue functioning as if nothing happened except just me being caught up in my thoughts or simply day dreaming again, just like my perceived 'old times.'

They were more frequent though, more common, since I had less to distract me. Dr. Dogers caught me reciting numbers and formulas more and more, muttering to myself about nonsense constantly. I lied to him, saying that reciting numbers of pi or math formulas calmed me down, that I was just thinking of ideas for my stories, passed it off as normal. Once again, my life was turning out to be one, big lie.

_I felt trapped, but not so more trapped as I felt now._

My first thought was heading back to the chapel, finding some place to hide in there, but I had already passed the chapel some time back, as it was so close to where I encountered _him. _Besides, the altar was made of stone and the back of it was part of the wall, also there were only five pews. No places to hide in that chapel and locking the door would do nothing. I only had my speed, wits, and knowledge of the place around me.

And, apparently, negligent janitors.

There, in the hallway I just turned into, was a janitor's cart, a cleaning trolley, abandoned on the side of the corridor. Not missing a beat, I gripped the side of it with my hand and vaulted myself into the large, yellow, vinyl cleaning bag. I pulled the lid shut and buried myself underneath the wet, brown paper towels that people used to wash their hands in bathrooms. Fearfully, I listened for my pursuer.

I could hear the slaps of his converse hitting the floor as he turned into the hallway and raced past me. I heard him skid to a stop as he decided which direction to take after he reached the end of the hall. I held my breath until I could, once again, hear him running, apparently choosing a direction to go. Still, I waited and was rewarded with hearing my psychiatrist, Dr. Dogers, run past too, huffing and puffing in hot pursuit. Sure that it was safe for the moment, I opened the lid, cautiously peeking out of my hiding place and sighed in relief.

_"Hey!"_ A voice barked.

Heart in my throat, I whipped my head around to see the missing janitor walking towards my direction. But that wasn't what scared me, behind him was a red-headed woman who couldn't have been anyone else but the tenth Doctor's best companion, Donna Noble. Quickly, I shoved my weight against the side of the trolley, tipping it over onto the floor, and fled the scene, apologizing for the mess under my breath.

* * *

Where could she have gone? The Doctor wondered as he ran through the hallways. He had been right behind her and slowly gaining, but the moment she turned into a different hallway, he lost her. Oh, she was _good_, the Doctor would give her that. And she could leg it like no tomorrow, but if she hadn't disappeared like she had, the Doctor would've caught her.

But now he lost her and had no idea where she could possibly be.

The Doctor came to a stop, breathing hard, upset at the turn of events. He stood there, cursing, as Dr. Dogers came up behind him, panting hard from the exertion. "Wha-What…were…you…_thinking?! _Penny is in…no state…of mind to…be chased…around like…that," he scolded between large gulps of air.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," the Doctor apologized. "But she thought I was a delusion, a figment of her imagination. Her case is worse than I imagined…How could you have let it get this far?" The last part the Doctor had directed at himself, but Dr. Dogers assumed that the Time Lord had meant him.

"I-I didn't realize…I believed her when…I caught her mumbling…nonsense and complex…theorems and long strings…of-of numbers…She-she told me it… it was a way to calm herself…To keep things straight…Penny is guileless, like a…a _child_. She can't…lie, not really."

"Ever heard of 'half-truths?'" The Doctor drily directed at the man standing beside him.

Dr. Dogers sighed, "This is beyond me now…I don't think I can help her…anymore. Maybe it _is _time for…for her to move on and…and go with you, Dr. Smith…Maybe you can help where…where I cannot."

"Maybe," the Doctor agreed, looking away from the saddened old man beside him. "But I've lost her, I don't know where she could've gone."

Dr. Dogers gave a sad little smile, "Then it's a good thing I do…Come on."

* * *

_'How strange,'_ Donna thought, _'Are all the patients like that? She looked so scared. Are they being mistreated or something?' _Donna's eyes narrowed in suspicion. She had heard some of the horror stories of how mentally disturbed patients were treated in the past, but she had thought that everyone had moved beyond acting like they were from the Dark Ages.

_'Apparently not, though…'_

Donna opened her mouth to scold the janitor for not telling someone if the patients were being abused, but said janitor beat her to the punch. "You were looking for Penny, right? Well, that was her. It's kind of odd, though, she doesn't always look that twitchy or scared. Something must've spooked her, she's never done this before, knocking over carts without reason after _hiding_ in them of all things."

"What do you mean, 'twitchy?'" Donna asked sharply.

"The girl's deluded, paranoid about her own monsters she writes about, and it hasn't helped with all the news reports about monsters in Britain, which, no offense, sounds like a bunch of baloney to me."

"…None taken," Donna said absent-mindedly. She must've misread the whole situation, but even still, if she saw one, tiny hint of anything untoward happening to any one of the patients, she was calling the cops. "Which way was Penelope's room again?"

* * *

It was dark and quiet under my bed as I prayed to myself, trying to soothe the fear I felt. "In-increase my Faith, deepen my c-commitment to do w-what is right," I breathed. "H-help me to forget self, by keeping my mind and eyes on…on _You_, I may have that…that _perfect_ love that casts out all fear."

I shuddered, jittery from the adrenalin, and moved myself deeper into the shadows of my little twin bed, hoping that it was enough to hide me. I was tired, _so_ very tired, I wondered if I could just fall asleep under there, but still, I knew that sleep would be impossible with all my nervous energy. "The Lord is my shepherd, there's nothing I shall want," I mumbled under my breath.

Footsteps could be heard outside my door and voices, I tensed, huddling further underneath my bed, deeper into the shadows, pressed against the wall. _'Fresh and green are the pastures of faithfulness and truth,' _I continued silently. _'Near the restful waters He leads me, to revive my drooping spirit.'_

The door to my room opened and in stepped Dr. Dogers and the Doctor-_no_, the _apparition. _Of course, an apparition would claim it was real, wouldn't it? And in they walked, the apparition said, "She's not here, are you sure she would go to her own bedroom? I'm sure there are more, I don't know, less _obvious_ places a person could hide would be? She can't be _that _predictable…"

_'Spot on,'_ I thought, _'On both counts.'_ It was true, I _was_ that predictable, but I also knew the less obvious places to hide…like under the bed.

"You would be surprised, Dr. Smith. Just wait here, I'll go to the chapel. It's the only other place that she would go to for a sense of security…" Dr. Dogers left and the apparition sighed, closing the door behind my psychiatrist.

The apparition began to walk towards my bed and I panicked, praying, _'If ever I shall walk in the valley of darkness, no evil shall I fear…'_

It stopped not four feet from me, and I closed my eyes, scared, _'He guides me with the crook of His staff, of whom shall I fear?'_

"Well, what do we have here?" It said, and my eyes flew open, expecting to see the apparition looking back at me. Instead, it was farther away from me on the other side of the room, presumably looking at my sketches that I taped to the wall. My guess was proven correct when I heard the sound of tape being peeled off the wall and paper being crinkled slightly. The sound repeated several times and I realized he was taking them down from the wall. Upset, I bit my tongue, half-wanting to say something, but knowing that it would be better if I didn't.

"These schematics are exact, how did she…?" Its voice trailed away and suddenly it stormed over to my desk, riffling through my things. Indignant, I had to clench my teeth shut to keep quiet and focus on not grinding them, since doing that ruins teeth. "This doesn't make any sense, is she a future companion? But that still doesn't explain how she knows all of this…!" It unexpectedly cleared off my desk, sending my papers, books, journals, and supplies to the floor. One of my small paint containers fell to the floor near the bed, splattering my face with blue paint. I jumped at the unexpected move and cacophony of sound, the small noise I made was covered up by the others.

"How is this possible…?" It asked rhetorically, pacing around the room. I watched its feet, having no other choice at the moment, as it continued to mutter to itself. Long minutes passed as it made no change to its habit other than switching the direction it paced occasionally. Finally confident that I was secure in my hiding place for a while, I closed my eyes, intent on doing the Divine Mercy, hoping that praying would calm my nerves and deliver me from this situation.

_'In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit…'_

* * *

When Donna opened the door to Penny's perceived room, she didn't expect to see the mess inside. "Doctor!" She exclaimed, stunned. "What's all this for, then?"

"Oh, Donna, you're here, brilliant!" He whipped around with a grin on his face, "Do you have her files? I need to examine them."

"Well, yeah, I do, but what's all of this-this mess for? Did you get into a row with someone or something?"

"Nah, I just got a bit…frustrated."

"And so, like a child having a fit, you threw everything on the floor," Donna sighed, shaking her head.

"Not all of it," the Doctor defended weakly as he took the files from his companion. "Just…most of it, besides, I'll clean it up later once we erase all of the evidence."

"Erase all the evidence? Evidence of what?"

"My existence, Donna, I can't have people knowing about my past, even if it's mostly perceived as fiction. It's not just me who would be in danger, but everyone I've come in contact with mentioned in Penelope's stories. Not to mention, once UNIT catches wind of this, and I imagine they have, they will swoop in, kidnap our little friend, and take any scrap of information she knows by use of any and all means…not all of them nice." The Doctor answered seriously, morosely, as he started to leaf through the file, eyes flying across the pages.

"We can't leave her to that, then," she exclaimed, alarmed.

"I don't plan to," he said, eyes finally looking up at her, finished reading. "I can't possibly leave someone who has somehow managed to survive going through the void completely unprotected and without any technology whatsoever. Not to mention all the impossible information she has."

"But Doctor, it's just-"

"No, Donna, it's _not_ just information on me. She knows things that nothing but Time-Aware species would know, complex mathematical formulas and knowledge."

"So?"

"_So,_ she should be _dead._ Her mind should've burned out, overloaded with all that information, and, according to these x-rays, it almost _did_." The Doctor displayed them in front of Donna, who had saw them earlier but didn't understand the significance then. "But somehow, her brain was able to make it recede from her conscious mind into her subconscious. It's brilliant,_ beautiful_, even…" He gazed off into space, voice trailing off in thought.

"Doctor, Earth to Doctor," Donna intoned. "Wake up, Space-man! This is no time to be fantasizing about her mind! What we need to worry about is if she's alright or if her mind will blow up any second!"

"Who said anything about her mind blowing up?"

"You did, Dumbo!"

"No, I said that it would _burn_ up, not _blow _up!"

"I don't think it really matters in the end if she's _dead_, Doctor."

"Hmm, point taken," he conceded. "But the thing is, if her mind was going to burn up, she would be dead by now. I can't be sure until I do some scans, because the medication they've given her might only be keeping it at bay."

"Medication?"

"Yes, neuroleptics, they're meant to calm her down, reduce her symptoms," the Doctor said flippantly. "But we can worry about that later, we've got to find Penny first and get her to the TARDIS."

"And you thought the best way to do that was to lurk in her room, prowling about like a lion on the hunt for some zebra?" Donna crossed her arms, unimpressed.

"Am not!" The Doctor protested, "I am not_ lurking_ or _prowling_, I'm just waiting in the most likely place that she'll return to, according to Dr. Dogers, her psychiatrist."

"And where is he?"

"In the second most likely place, the chapel."

"Do you really believe that?"

"Not at first, no, but after having a peek at her files, yes, I do now."

"And why is that, Space-man?" Donna asked, arms still crossed and weight shifted onto one hip, looking very much like a mother waiting for her son's excuses to why he didn't do his chores.

"She's been reduced to the mentality of a child. She thinks like a child and acts like one. My guess is that it's a coping mechanism to keep whatever sanity she has left, since she's been told that the 'real' Penelope Elaine Carter is ten years her junior. Even though they _both_ are Penelope, just ten years in the past for one and in the present for the other. Right now, we're dealing with a child."

"A child," Donna repeated flatly.

"Yes, a child," the Doctor confirmed.

"Doctor, do you know what children do when they get scared? They _hide_. Penelope hid, and she did it right under your nose!"

"What?" The Doctor asked, startled at the turn of events.

"Didn't you, Sweetheart?" Donna asked, her voice taking on a more sympathetic tone, as she got on her knees and looked under the bed.

_"What?" _The Doctor quickly joined Donna and also looked under the bed, taking out his sonic screwdriver to provide some light. Startled and fearful brown eyes peered back him. _"What?!"_

* * *

I cringed, there wasn't much else I could do in the limited space under the bed. Somehow, the hallucination of Donna Noble found out exactly where I was, but I didn't find it too surprising then. They were a part of my mind, devoted only to terrorizing me and tormenting me, of course they wouldn't leave me in peace for long. I wanted to cry, to scream, to run, all at the same time, but instead, I let out a choked whimper and pressed myself against the wall farther.

"Oh, Sweetheart, we're not here to harm you, I swear, only to help. Everything you've written about, it's all true, all of it! You don't deserve to be locked up here, you're not crazy. Come on out, so we can help you," she cajoled.

I tried to ignore her, mumbling another decade of the Divine Mercy, "...For the sake of His sorrowful passion, have mercy on us and on the whole world. For the sake of His sorrowful passion, have mercy on us and on the whole world. For the sake of His…"

The light of the sonic screwdriver that belonged to the apparition of the Doctor turned off, and he crawled out from his spot partially underneath my bed. The hallucination of Donna Noble followed.

"Donna, do you think you can coax her out, or do you want me to try? I'd rather she come with us of her own will, but if I have to, I will take her out of here by other means," it sounded resigned.

"And what's that supposed to mean? Are you suggesting that you're going to drag her out of here kicking and screaming?" She sounded appalled by the idea.

"No!" He hastily denied loudly. A brief pause followed where he presumably calmed himself down before he repeated in a quieter tone, "No, not like that. I would rather...not, but if it becomes necessary, I'll put her in a light hypnotic trance, she'll listen to my...suggestions and follow us without a word."

There was a pregnant pause before Donna spoke, voice low and serious, "Doctor, what is it you're not telling me? Be straight with me, _Space-man_." The nickname seemed almost like a warning, a threat.

He sighed, "When I was younger, I used hypnotisms all the time, carelessly, without regard to the one being hypnotized, as did most of my people. I realized...I _learned _over time that it would be far better if I didn't, at least, not like I used to. I'm old, Donna, older than I used to be, my mind is much more powerful at the age. The human mind, in comparison to a Time Lord's, is much weaker, more delicate. The type of hypnotic trance I would need to put Penny in, if Penny isn't willing, could be scary and majorly unpleasant."

"But I was hypnotized before, and it wasn't that bad."

"That's because another human was hypnotizing you, for it to work, it must be consensual when they do it and the person being hypnotized must be completely relaxed. When a Time Lord does it...when _I _do it, it doesn't matter. Nothing a human can do can break the trance, not really. They could convince me to break it by making it miserable for me to do it, but it's only by my will that it's broken. The person is trapped in their own minds, Donna, this is the type of trance that I'll be forced to use on her."

She was silent for a long time, but finally, she said, "Then I better try to convince her then. I would rather you not, but...I think we're losing her anyway, Doctor. Her eyes, they don't...focus on me directly, like they're looking through me. She's suffering more by staying here, being told her life is a lie, being here for six years, completely sane but being told that she's not…it must be maddening. It would be better if you didn't have to, but if I can't convince her…" She swallowed, "Be gentle with her, Space-man. Don't hurt her or you'll have to answer to me. I'd never forgive you or...or _myself_."

He stepped closer, possibly putting a hand on her shoulder. "Only if necessary," he promised.

"Only if necessary," she repeated faintly.

* * *

The Doctor was uneasy with his promise. He wasn't joking or mucking about when he said that the experience would be scary and unpleasant for Penny, but he wasn't being completely honest either. The type of hypnosis he was going to do, was basically the broadcasting of his will unto others, oppressive and complete, his will unto theirs. He would have almost complete and utter control over Penny, like a puppeteer in control of her strings. The idea made him feel dirty.

In the past, he didn't mind as much, younger and arrogant and ignorant. He had learned from his people, used to telepathic mind-touches constantly. It was used as a way of greeting someone back on Gallifrey, it was so common, so everyday, normal. He was far from the best or the strongest when it came to matters of the mind, that was the Master's forte, but the Doctor most certainly wasn't the weakest. He was no lightweight in Time Lord Society, and compared to humans, he was a monster, a behemoth, capable of crushing their simple minds without too much effort on his part, if he really, truly wanted to.

As he got older, the Doctor found it less and less necessary to use hypnosis to get around guards or staff, as psychic paper worked just as well. In fact, after the Time War, he only used hypnosis once and refused to touch another being's mind, refused to share something so intimate with another, until he met Madame de Pompadour. Oh, she was a special one, her mind so open and accepting. He never found another quite like it, and he never had another being be able to enter his mind so easily, not without help or prompting. The Doctor wouldn't admit it, but there was a special place in one of his hearts reserved just for her, a place desperate for his other companions or loves, like Rose Tyler or Sarah Jane Smith, because none of them could compare! Not one of them…

Surface touches, like hypnotism, was all he did now, putting people into the lowest possible trance, usually when telling them to trust him, making eye and physical contact and changing the pitch of his voice was all that was normally needed. This time, however, the Doctor knew that a deeper trance was required, that he would need to impose his will upon her, control her. Sometimes, he disgusted himself, but it was necessary. Maybe he could make it so she really was in a trance, numb the fear, just until she was in the TARDIS and they had taken off. Then she could automatically snap out of it, her obligation to his will complete.

Yes, that would be best, that way she wouldn't be too aware of what was happening around her, less fear but maybe a bit more confusion, he could work with that, pacify her with an explanation that he would come up with once he got to that point. Besides, even Donna said herself that Penelope was a bit out of it, it wouldn't be too much different, not really…

_He hoped that Donna could convince Penelope to join them._

* * *

Donna sighed, she thought that she had gotten through to Penny when the girl didn't immediately withdraw when she placed a hand on Penelope's arm. It turned out that the only reason this was, because Penelope had no more room _to_ withdraw. The Doctor had picked up everything off the floor and placed them in his bigger-on-the-inside pockets, Donna was out of time. Penelope would not be swayed this way.

"Right, well, grab an end," he said.

"What?" Donna asked, startled.

"This will need eye contact to be effective. We need to be able to see each other's eyes, so the bed must be moved," the Doctor explained grimly, business-like. Donna wisely didn't comment but, instead, assisted him in the task. The girl looked at them, brown eyes wide in terror, as her hiding place was rendered useless and was taken. Donna felt her heart break just a little more for the younger woman.

"It's okay, it's okay, just look at me. Look at me," the Doctor coaxed, voice soft and imploring. "Look at me, Penelope Elaine Carter. When you've thought of me before, when you've imagined me, pictured me in your mind, never have I been this detailed, have I? Maybe a bit fuzzy, perhaps a bit blurry? I'm really here, and you know it, you're just too scared to believe, aren't you?" The girl shook her head furiously left and right, refusing to look at him, in denial, afraid that he might be right.

"Yes, you are, because you know it, you _fear_ it. You're scared that I am real, because then, if I, who once was fiction, became true, reality, then what else is real and what is false? It's terrifying, isn't it? You're staring into the chasm of madness, on the edge, the tip, about to fall over." Penny's head tentatively angled towards the Doctor, eyes still adverted.

"But answer me this, Penelope, what are you going to do? Hide? I'm not going away, regardless if I'm real or not, I'm not leaving. You know this, you know it. What happened to the woman, the girl from before who was vehemently denying my existence, eh? The girl who looked me in the eyes, trembling, and told me to leave, to leave and never return, where is she? Eh? Where did she go, because let me tell you, she scared me. She looked me in the eyes, even though she was so afraid and told me, no, _ordered_ me to leave, where did she go?" Finally, Penny looked at him, not in the eyes but at him, listening closely.

"Because I was intimidated by that woman, but I admired her too, that wonderful, brilliant woman who stood up to her own fears. You're afraid now, I realize that, but can you be strong and look at me? Yes, like that, look into my eyes…_ I see you, Penelope Elaine Carter of Underwood, and I need you to trust me._"

Donna wasn't even the person who the words were directed at, and she still felt their draw, the underlying power within them, and the power that seemed to hang in the air after their passing. She tried to give herself a good shake but found that she could still not turn away from the scene. The Doctor hadn't been lying about the strength of his hypnotism. It was alarming how powerful his words could be, Donna felt uncomfortable unleashing this seemingly unstoppable force on someone else, even though it was necessary in the long run. She just hoped that Penny wouldn't get hurt.

* * *

Those eyes of his, they frightened me. No, frightened isn't the right word (although, they certainly frightened me too), they...troubled me. They looked so-so _old_. With that age, came a power to rattle me to my core with merely a look.

The previous statement sounds like it came out of a cheesy love story, I know, but they weren't "smoldering with undying love" (gag, by the way). Their only desire was knowledge and answers and compliance, for the cold, hard facts and my complete obedience in giving them. Those eyes had seen so much, more than I ever had during my miniscule (by comparison) twenty-four years of life. On the other hand, while those eyes had the power to render me helpless, they offered much comfort.

My brothers and Grandpa had brown eyes similar to the shade staring back at me, those eyes were familiar and, therefore, comforting. For a moment, I could just pretend I was staring into the eyes of one of my brothers as an adult or my grandpa when he was younger. Who else would know me so well? Who else would be able to guess my feelings and thoughts so accurately? At that moment, I was nervous but agreeable.

Until he said my name.

_"I see you, Penelope Elaine Carter of Underwood."_

My vision tunneled until his face was the only thing I could see, the fog turning dark and covering all else. My focus narrowed, I lost awareness of the rest of my body, as if it was left in the darkness that had suddenly appeared in the fog. It felt disconnected, like it had fallen asleep, tingly and warm, muffled and slow, ears ringing and hearing limited to only the sound of his voice. I lost all control of my body and my mind drifted.

It was a chore to vocalize my assent when he asked if I would do as he asked of me, but I managed. I couldn't think, thoughts harder to grasp than dust motes in the sunlight, My mind floated like them too, all I wanted to do, all I _could _do was listen and comply to his requests, his orders, his commands. His will became my will, nothing else mattered.

Distantly, there was alarm, fear, confusion, and horror in my thoughts, but they were so far away, detached. It was so much easier to just comply, I felt so airy and light as I followed behind him and next to her. I remember being distantly concerned over the extent of my control over my own body, but I had none, it disappeared. It was like trying to move in a giant pool of thick chocolate or caramel (which, by the way, isn't as fun as it sounds), useless and tiring, completely futile. I gave up on the attempt as impossible or too hard to really be worth it, as it zapped my energy so quickly and so readily.

I remember thinking,_ 'I can't control my body, what happened? Where did it all go? Why can't I move myself? Oh Lord, please, help me, I'm being possessed! I can't move! Help! Help! I need-'_

It was like someone had pulled a plug, my panicked thoughts had gotten cut off so quickly and abruptly. And my awareness faded even more, black spots danced in front of my tunnel vision and I felt the same hot flash I would get, if I stood up too quickly which would make me almost pass out because of my low blood pressure. Distantly, my panicked thoughts returned, but sounded so far away, as if I was hearing only an echo, _'Why? Why would you do this to me, Doctor?'_

And then I was lost to the darkness of the fog.

* * *

It was so easy to put her in the trance, the Doctor reflected, feeling slightly guilty, but he attributed this to the drugs lowering her mental defenses. He really didn't mean to, but he caught her surface thoughts. Her brother, she likened him to her brother, but she thought his eyes looked more like her grandfather's, but the face didn't match the eyes. She thought it was strange and unnerving that eyes could look old, since she had never noticed any differences in other eyes before. She liked him, thought he was familiar, and had even started to trust him, naturally trust him, not just giving him the benefit of the doubt but actually trusting him, all because of his eyes.

_'Guileless,'_ he thought, _'Dr. Dogers was right, her thoughts are so child-like, innocent, completely guileless. The medication has done worse with her mental state than I previously thought. Oh, Penelope, I'm so, so sorry.' _He felt uncomfortable doing this to what was, essentially, a small child's mind, but he believed it was necessary and pushed through the task. Using her true name, the power of it was immediate. His hearts felt heavy while he watched her clouded eyes dull even more, trance complete.

He helped Penelope stand and assured Donna once more that the girl would be alright, just a bit out of it until they reached the TARDIS. Pacified but doubtful, Donna insisted on staying beside Penelope in case something unexpected happened. The Doctor almost told her it was unnecessary, because the body wouldn't show any visible reactions that she would see, only the mind would have the surprises. He stopped himself though, knowing that it would just make his companion more distressed.

Things were going just fine until he heard the first surges of fear and panic begin to radiate through her mind. Abruptly, the Doctor turned around, startling Donna, and put his hands near her temples, deciding that it would be best if he put her conscious mind to rest, since suppressing her panic wouldn't work for long, since it would eventually overflow the mental dam he built. His hearts sank even further as he heard her last thought ask him why he was doing this in the horrified tone of a small child who realized that her fears were real. Gritting his teeth, he removed his fingers from her temples, task done.

"What the hell was that, Space-man?" Donna demanded, unnerved.

"Making sure that nothing was wrong with her," he muttered. Louder, he continued, "We need to make a quick stop in the stockroom, Donna."

"Why? What's in there?" She asked, still eying Penelope with concern but was relieved when the girl started wandering along without any noticeable differences from before.

"Penelope's medication," the Doctor answered flatly, loathing the idea of giving Penelope any more of the antipsychotics, even though it was necessary. Earth medicine, what a laugh.

_"What?!"_ Donna fairly exploded.

Stressed, the Doctor rounded on her, "Listen to me, Donna Noble, I need you to take Penelope to the TARDIS. You can tell me exactly what you're thinking then, but now is not the place or the time, clear?"

Donna momentarily looked stunned before her face clouded with displeasure and indignation. Miffed, she turned to the girl beside her, "Come on, Penny. Let's go to the TARDIS, while the Doctor does something surprising _stupid_ of him." The Doctor ignored the jab, knowing that Donna was only trying to get a rise out of him. As he said earlier, this was not the time or the place, he would explain exactly why he needed to get the drugs later. He only hoped that Donna would listen to reason.

* * *

"You can't just do that to her, Doctor! She was unstable because of that crap they put in her, giving her more won't help!" Donna bellowed, finally jolting me out of the half-trance I was in.

"Donna," the Doctor tried, voice chilling even.

"You saw what she was like! Scared of her own shadow, I saw her hiding in a janitor's trolley of all things! Leaving her on that medication is going to make thing worse, not better," Donna continued stubbornly. They were arguing about me, I realized then with a growing horror, nostalgia of the worst kind started to wash over me, I was simultaneously saddened and frightened.

"No, Donna, I'm not leaving her on it, I'm going to slowly take her off of it-"

Donna interrupted, "Slowly isn't going to cut it, Doctor. She needs to be taken off it right now, what you're doing isn't must better than what those people were doing on that planet. Leaving her on those drugs is like cutting out that hind-brain and suppressing the third brain of the Oods, it's killing her, Doctor! It's killing the person she used to be, her sense of self, it's _gone!_ She's barely here, barely even alive, and you want things to continue that way?! Who are you and what have you done with the Doctor, huh?!"

My nose started to wiggle, a habit I had developed to stop tears from coming. When my nose started to tickle, a sign of on-coming tears, I wiggled it until the tickling sensation stopped. Sometimes though, wiggling my nose didn't stop the tears, and when they came, they wouldn't stop. My throat tightened as they continued, it seemed to get smaller and smaller until it was nothing but a dense rubber ball stuck inside my throat.

"He's still here!" The Doctor roared. "You can't just take her off it, you got to wean her, put her through rehab! If I just take her off it, cold turkey, she'll go through a relapse, gain a dependency on it like an addict because of the hell withdrawals can be!" Closing my eyes, all I can see are exploding pin-pricks of light. I wonder if my brain is disintegrating behind my eyes. Everything else around me is falling apart, why wouldn't my brain?

"Addicts can stop if there are people to help them through with it! There are people who have been able to stop cocaine addiction, and she has no way to get the medicine, so she won't be able to rebound!" I try to hold back the memories, the pain, from my life before coming back to the surface, but it's like fighting the ocean's tide, futile.

_"You can't eat, you can't sleep, you can't move right, always jumpy, always nervous, always feeling sick! _It's physically affecting her, Donna, she can't just grit her teeth and bare it, no one can! It's a drug and she's addicted, even if she doesn't know it yet!"

My eyes swell up with tears, a memory plays before me:

_"Stop crying!" Dad barked at me, furious, "And look me in the eyes when I'm talking to you, you little-"_

My nose start wiggling hard, trying to hold them back, but the tickling sensation in my nose only got worse.

"If she just-"

"Donna, there's a disorder for it, Antipsychotic Discontinuation Syndrome, it's harmful and it's painful, would you rather she suffered?!" He thundered. "Answer me!"

A phantom pain blooms in my cheek, tingling ominously, as my nose starts wiggling on overdrive. It's not enough to stop the tears as I stifle my sobs, shoulders shaking.

_"No crying…"_

I look forward, staring at the groove in the wall through my tears and try to imagine myself sliding into it, disappearing completely. That's all I want, to disappear, to _hide_. The groove stretched wider and before my eyes became a small door which opened with nary a sound before my eyes. I felt a pressure in the back of my head, a nudging sensation that seemed to say, "Go ahead, go on, run."

I hesitated for a second but the continued shouting made my decision for me. With hardly a glance back, I scurried over to the newly made door and slipped inside. The door closed behind me and I looked forward to see a long stretch of hallway. The nudge came again in my mind and I heeded its advice, running as fast as my unstable legs could carry me.

* * *

_**To Be Continued...**_

* * *

_**Explanations:**_

* The "Faith" that Penelope keeps mentioning is her belief as a Roman Catholic.

* Yes, you really can hide in those janitor carts, some of them are big enough.

* The first prayer was one that my grandma taught me, you will be seeing a lot more of it, since it fits the story so well. The second is actually a psalm.

* I have under gone a hypnotic trance before, really, truly experienced one. And let me tell you, it is in no way like Holly wood makes it out to be. For starters you don't because zombie-like, not too much anyway. This is because you can BREAK THE TRANCE, it's easy. If you test the boundaries of the trance too hard, you break them. You are aware the whole time and you can remember most of what had been said, but you perception of time is way off. What felt like five minutes turned out to be forty-five.

* Most of this hypnotism thing that Penny experiences from the Doctor in what I so fondly call the "Time Lord Trance" is a mixture of my actual experience from hypnotism and what I experienced under the influence of laughing gas. There is a bit of cannon mixed in through the conjecture and interpretation of mine.

* Antipsychotic Discontinuation Syndrome really does exist and you will experience all the symptoms he listed if you try to go cold turkey on strong medicine that your is used to since you've been taking it _for_ _years_. Get a professional to help you through this decision and process.

* Yes, Penny has issues from her previous life back in her own universe that's coming back to haunt her. Don't expect her old life to pop up too often though, she has started to forget bits and pieces of it herself.

_**Advertisements:**_

**TITLE: **Starlight

**AUTHOR: **Writless

**ID: **7817227

**SUMMARY: **Thanks to the Doctor, the Master has survived the fall of Gallifrey. But without the constant beating of the drums, he finds himself lost. In his search for the Doctor, he discovers Fitz instead. An idiotic, infuriating girl with something troubling around her neck. A time lord. And if he can't find a way to help her, it'll kill her. Master/OC Part one of Starlight series.

**OPINION: **I enjoyed it, I seriously, completely enjoyed it. The witty banter is hilarious and the Master is completely believable. Pretty good for a Drumless!Master, he stayed in character, had the same personality we all look for.

_**Thought Process:**_

Okay, right, so, brutal weather up here in Minnesota, brrr... And, I made the 2014 Senior Walk List, this means I will be walking up to get my diploma, yay!

Right, so, random fact, the other day, there was a Blizzado/Tornard in South Dakota. Basically, a winter storm and a giant whirl wind's love child, scary stuff. Just when you thought you were safe from tornados in the winter, this happens. It's unlikely, but very possible.

Just like sunshowers, I love me a good sunshower, so pretty!

No promises when chapter eight will show up, but hopefully sometime next week, maybe. We'll see.

Happy Friday,

FFA, the Fan Fictional Authoress

_Date Submitted: _Friday, April 4, 2014


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